


Nowhere But Forward

by MishaBerry



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Coming Out, Damian Wayne is Robin, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings Realization, Found Family Feels, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No editing we die like mne, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Read the Trigger Warnings People, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tim Drake is Red Robin, they both consent but neither are really in a stable emotional place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-03-13 19:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 148,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18947596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MishaBerry/pseuds/MishaBerry
Summary: It shouldn't have happened the way it did.When Kon finds Tim in Paris, it leads to a night that neither of them will ever forget, for better or for worse. Tim is then forced to confront something he's been denying about himself for a very long time, and Kon begins to question some things about himself. The road ahead is full of twists and turns, but there's nowhere to go but forward.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! It's me, back on my bullshit yet again. This one has been in the works for quite awhile, but I'm finally getting down to it. I'm really excited for this one as there's going to be a lot of character exploration and angst on a lot of different levels.
> 
> This picks up during the Red Robin 2009 series, and I'm going to be picking and choosing the canon that I want to include. Recent notorious Batman comics will most likely be left out.

It shouldn't have happened the way that it did.

It probably shouldn't have happened at all, if Tim were completely honest with himself (he was having trouble being honest with himself). 

The whole situation still didn't feel real, even as it was happening. When Tim had heard that Kon was alive—Tim had been avoiding contact with other superheroes, but he made sure to keep up with the news—he hadn't really reacted aside from filing the information away in the back of his mind. His head was so messed up, there was no room to process his emotions, to even  _ have  _ emotions, even now that Kon was standing right in front of him.

The Paris night was mild but humid, though above ground there was at least a small breeze to cool one's face. As Red Robin descended into the underground tunnels—Superboy at his heels, criticizing his costume choices—the air grew thicker, more stale. The further down they went, the colder it became, the damp clinging to everything. By the time they reached the labs buried in the bowels of the city, Tim was almost grateful that he'd taken off the cowl—the air was so oppressive it felt hard to breathe.

Luthor's lab hadn't changed since Tim had cleaned it out; it was likely that no one had been there since. Even rats didn't come here, too scared by the smell of the place: like sterile dust and crimes against humanity. Kon was talking to him, and Red Robin was talking back. Words were being exchanged, important things, but Tim couldn't seem to  _ feel  _ anything. Kon was alive, standing right in front of him, talking to him, touching his shoulder. He looked as he had just before he'd died, like he'd been plucked out of Tim's memories, fresh and bright and so  _ alive _ . For half a second Tim felt some sense of normalcy return, like the world made sense again. He was talking to his best friend and things were normal.

Things weren't normal. Kon had died, Bart had died, Tim's father was dead, Dick had taken Robin away from him, Dick had chosen  _ Damian  _ as his Robin, Tim had freed Jason only for him to go on a killing spree, Bruce was  _ missing,  _ not dead, and no one believed him—

"I believe you," Kon said, resting a hand on Tim's shoulder.

Tim's mind went quiet. For just a moment, thing were okay. Everything was still messed up, but for a moment Tim knew he would be okay. No matter what happened, Kon was back, Bart was back, and that meant that things would be okay.

Kon believed him. Tim knew he was right. Bruce  _ was  _ out there.

"Thanks, Conner," Tim said, smiling for what felt like the first time in a long time.

They sat there in the lab for a while, the air around them barely disturbed by their presence. In the distance Tim could hear running water and the skittering of tiny claws on stone. Suddenly the world seemed to tilt and something curled around Tim’s chest, restricting his breathing. Tim groaned and panted, trying to fight off whatever was coiling around him, squeezing him until he felt like he was about to be crushed.

“Hey man, you good?” Kon asked, putting a hand on Tim’s back and rubbing gently. As he did, the pressure began to ease.

“I’m fine,” Tim wheezed, struggling to control himself. His body leaned closer to Kon. “That feels nice,” he murmured.

Kon redoubled his efforts, rubbing a little more vigorously. The coiling eventually retreated, leaving Tim sagging against Kon side. Kon wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders in a kind of side hug, rubbing his arm and occasionally giving him a squeeze. Kon was solid with muscle and warm against him. Tim felt anchored in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. When was the last time someone had held Tim like this?

“Tim?” Kon asked, voice soft. “Are you okay?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, just—” he shivered, unable to form more words. He focused on taking deep, steady breaths, like he was trying to meditate.

Kon pressed his lips together, but didn't say anything, waiting for Tim to calm down. Tim rested his cheek against Kon’s chest, listening to his heart beating. Tim’s breaths became shuddering. Kon was alive, alive,  _ alive _ .

Tim lifted his head; as he did so, Kon must have been leaning down to check on him, and their lips brushed for half a second. It was barely more than the ghost of a touch, but it sent a shock of electricity through Tim and he gasped. Kon jolted back like he’d felt the shock too. They stared at each other for a second, blue into blue, both trying to think of something to say.

Tim wasn’t sure who moved first—he was barely aware of moving at all—but suddenly they were kissing. Kon’s mouth slid over his hotly, his tongue sliding against Tim’s lips, which he readily parted. Using the arm already around his shoulders, Kon drew Tim close, pressing them chest-to-chest. Tim wrapped his arms around Kon’s neck, one hand reaching up to tangle in his thick black hair, gripping it too tightly.

Kon growled into Tim’s mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, getting a little over-excited and snagging Tim’s lip on his teeth. Tim jolted and whimpered at the pain, pressing forward, desperate for more.

The world spun and Tim was suddenly on his back, Kon’s mouth still moving against his, settling on top of him like a blanket of warmth. Tim spread his legs to allow Kon to slide his hips in between his thighs.

_ What am I doing? _ Tim wondered as Kon began to grind their pelvises together. This was all kinds of wrong, but Tim couldn't stop himself. He tossed his head back and moaned, wapping his legs around Kon’s hips, encouraging him to move faster.

“Kon,” he breathed, tilting his head back so Kon could mouth at his neck. He hissed when Kon bit him, hard enough to leave a mark. The thought of it made Tim’s dick twitch. He wanted Kon to mark him,  _ claim _ him, leave bruises and hickeys everywhere he could reach. Tim ached from his fingertips to his toes with desire.

“Fuck, Tim,” Kon growled into Tim’s ear, grinding his hips a little more firmly into Tim.

Tim hissed when his protective cup pushed painfully against his groin; his dick was starting to feel really cramped. Somehow he managed to get his hands between them and started to undo his belt. Kon quickly caught on and started helping, using his TTK to make short work of the complex system of snaps and zippers. The relief when his cock sprang free of his cup made Tim shudder and he moaned, the pleasure/pain overloading his senses for a moment. By the time he came back around Kon had already worked his jeans open and was taking them both in his hand.

“Fuck!” Tim cried, too loud in the quiet of the underground laboratory, arching his back. The back of his head pressed painfully into the grating he was laying on. He gripped Kon’s biceps tightly and thrust his hips in time with Kon’s large, too-warm hand.

Kon made a low noise in his chest, bending back down to seal his lips to Tim’s again. They panted into one another’s mouths, tongues tangling and sliding against each other. Tim bit down on Kon’s bottom lip  _ hard _ , knowing it couldn’t hurt him. Kon growled and practically shoved his hips against Tim, scooting him up onto the platform a little higher. Tim yelped, hips bucking up into the rough treatment, clawing at Kon even through his gloves.

This was so messed up. They shouldn’t even be down here, in some secret cloning laboratory that Tim had cleaned out  _ months _ ago to clone the very person who was on top of him now, grinding against him. Tim knew for a fact that Kon had already spoken to Cassie, and that they were most likely back together now. There were a million different reasons to not be here, to not be doing this, but in that moment Tim couldn't care less. All he could think about was Kon, his heated,  _ alive _ body on top of him, pressing him down, wringing pleasure out their bodies.

Kon continued to suck and bite marks into Tim’s neck, growling when his uniform got in the way. With the hand that wasn't jerking them off, Kon reached down and pushed up Tim’s uniform up around his armpits, bending to mouth at his chest. Tim groaned and arched into the sensation. He cried out when Kon bit down on a nipple and then soothed it with his tongue.

“Kon,” Tim gasped, “fuck me.”

Kon looked up at him, eyes questioning but his hand not slowing down. “Tim?”

“Please,” Tim begged. “I want you to fuck me.” He wanted to  _ feel _ something. “ _ Please, _ Kon.”

Kon pulled back a little and stared down at Tim. No doubt Tim looked wrecked, dark red marks on his neck slowly purpling, a few more littering his chest among the scars and fresh wounds from his ‘work’. He was sweaty and disheveled, and he couldn't remember the last time he’d washed his hair. He must look awful.

Meanwhile, Kon had never looked better. Broad shoulders framed by dim light, his hair in a disarray that reminded Tim of how it used to look when it was longer at the top, curled and fluffy. Kon’s blue eyes were lazer-focused on Tim, pupils blown wide and hungry. His cheeks were flushed red, and the way it spread down his neck made Tim think it was probably across his chest as well. His cock was long and thick, jutting out from his open jeans and leaking against Tim’s own member.

Tim reached out and grabbed a fistful of Kon’s shirt, tugging at it and showing off a tantalizing hint of chiselled abs beneath it. “Please,” he begged.

Kon swore. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

Tim scrambled at his utility belt for the packet of medical grade lube he kept there as Kon pulled off his shirt. He pulled it out and started to shuffle his pants down just far enough to expose everything. Pulling off one glove with his teeth, Tim coated his fingers and reached down, plunging two fingers into himself immediately despite the painful stretch.

Kon sucked in a sharp breath as he watched Tim prep himself. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he moved his big hands to Tim’s thighs, pushing them up so he could see what Tim was doing to himself. Tim’s breath shuddered as he tried to pry himself open under Kon’s intense gaze. Shame and guilt and embarrassment bubbled up in Tim’s stomach. He should slow down, stop and examine just what the hell he thought he was doing. Tim moaned and shoved his fingers in deeper.

Unable to stand it any longer, Tim pulled his fingers out and reached for the lube again. He held it out to Kon and looked up at him pleadingly. Kon understood his meaning and took the lube, hissing at the coolness as he spread it over his cock. Hooking Tim’s knees over his elbows, Kon leaned over him and positioned himself at Tim’s entrance.

“Tim?” Kon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you—?”

Tim wrapped his arms around Kon and pulled him down for a fierce kiss.  _ Don’t ask me if I’m sure about this, _ he begged internally. He wasn’t sure, he didn't know what he wanted, he didn’t want to think about it. Tim thrust his hips up, pushing against Kon and moaning when his cock caught against the rim of his hole.

That was all the encouragement Kon needed it seemed, and moments later he was pushing in. It burned; Tim hadn’t prepped himself nearly enough given how large Kon was, and the one packet of lube was only barely enough. Tim shivered and moaned, welcoming the pain,  _ wanting  _ it to hurt.

“Fuck, Tim,” Kon groaned into Tim’s mouth, shaking hard with effort. “You’re so  _ tight _ .”

“Please,” Tim gasped, hardly able to take a breath. “Fuck me, Kon,  _ please _ .”

Kon began to rock his hips, keeping the pace slow at first. Tim whined and canted his hips up, trying to get him to move faster. He wrapped his arms around Kon’s broad shoulders, clawing at his impenetrable skin, one glove still on. Kon growled and started to up his pace, Tim begging for faster, harder,  _ more _ until Kon was slamming into him.

Tim felt like he was on fire, his whole body burning with pleasure and pain. He’d taken a bad hit to the side the other day and his ribs were most likely cracked; every breath felt like he was dragging barbed wire through his lungs. The position was awkward with Tim’s pants tangled around his thighs, forcing Kon to bend him almost in half to get a good angle. The grating under Tim’s back was digging in harder with each of Kon’s thrusts, cushioned only by Tim’s cape. The way his uniform shirt was pushed up over his chest was starting to cut circulation to certain spots. It hurt, everything hurt, the pain mixing with the heat in his belly and the turmoil in his mind.

“Shit,” Kon swore. “You’re so  _ tight _ ,” he panted into Tim’s ear, pressing gentle kisses against his cheek. “So good—you're so good for me.”

Shame nibbled at the back of Tim’s neck. He grabbed a fistful of Kon’s hair and wrenched it, crashing their mouths together. Kon’s teeth caught against Tim’s lip, the pain sharp enough for Tim to know it had split. Tim tasted blood and moaned loudly.

Everything about this was wrong, but Tim never wanted it to end. He felt more alive than he had in what felt like years. The world around him fell away until all Tim could think of was Kon on top of him,  _ inside _ of him, fucking him hard and kissing him fiercely. The way he was holding Tim’s knees over his elbows, Tim’s pants still restricting his movements, made it impossible for Tim to do anything but lay there and take what Kon was giving him. Kon had the power to crack planets in half, he could rip Tim to pieces without even trying. The thought of it made Tim whine and gasp, his belly tightening as he approached the edge. He wanted it, wanted Kon to break him, split him in half and  _ take  _ everything.

Tim’s release snuck up on him, suddenly slamming into his body like an electric shock. Tim wailed and arched, his head slamming hard against the grating. Ropes of white painted his stomach as he writhed, Kon still thrusting into him. Through blurred vision, Tim could see Kon watching him, a look of reverence on his face. Kon groaned low and deep in his chest, thrusts picking up as he leaned over Tim. Moments later he was swearing viciously, grinding his hips hard into Tim, trying to push himself as deep as possible, emptying himself inside of Tim. One hand went out to steady himself, the grating crumpling like tinfoil in his grip. Tim shuddered as another wave of his orgasm washed over him.

They stayed there for what felt like hours, panting into the cool air, Kon still buried inside of him. Tim clung to Kon, feeling the muscles of his strong back flex and shift under his palms. Kon was a pleasant weight over him, keeping Tim warm even though they were probably half a mile underground and surrounded by stone and concrete. Sighing, Kon nuzzled further into Tim’s neck, laying a delicate, tender kiss to a dark bruise he’d left there earlier.

A sudden swirl of emotions swept through Tim gut, cold and acidic. He took a shuddering breath, the weight of what he’d just done settling on his chest, crushing him. Tim cursed and shifted to push Kon up, groaning as his softened cock slipped out of Tim. Tim tossed one arm over his eyes to block his vision, hide his face. He wished he hadn’t taken off his cowl. It was so much easier to hide with the cowl on.

Without Kon’s heat over him, Tim shivered in the cold. A warm, broad hand came to rest on the forearm that was thrown over his eyes. “Tim?” Kon asked, still breathing hard. “You okay?”

_ No, _ Tim thought,  _ none of this is okay. _ There was no part of this that was okay. Tim was on a suicide mission to bring back someone who, if not dead, was likely lost forever. The tattered remains of his family had abandoned him and he could trust no one, not a single person. Now he’d just fucked his resurrected best friend in a fit of hysteric desperation to  _ feel _ something. If there wasn’t a part of his life that was already in pieces then Tim seemed determined to fuck it up himself.

Carefully, Tim rolled to the side and sat up, facing away from Kon. His hips ached and he was certain that they hadn’t used enough lube. Hands shaking, Tim slowly pulled his pants back up over his hips and pushed his shirt back down. Taking a few steadying breaths, Tim finally pulled his cowl back up over his face, covering his neck, hiding his eyes. He turned back to Kon and offered a wan smile.

“Well, that got out of hand,” he said.

Kon stared at him. He was still flushed, breathing a little hard, pupils blown. He hadn’t put his shirt back on, his hair was a mess, and his pants were still open. He looked as though he’d been carved from marble, perfect in every way. Kon’s eyes burned into Tim, searching—pleading?

_ Take the out _ , Tim begged,  _ It doesn't have to change, nothing has to change,  _ **_we_ ** _ don't have to change. _ Tim had lost so much in such a short amount of time, he couldn't stand it if he had to lose Kon too.

For a moment it seemed like Kon was about to say something that would shatter the world around them. The tension in the air trembled, just on the edge of snapping. There was a half-second where it seemed like it all might come crashing down. The moment stretched, wavered, and finally dissipated like smoke in the air. Kon sighed and sat back on his heels, his body leaning back from Tim.

“Yeah, that was—” Kon ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to realized he was still out of his jeans and tucked himself back into his boxers.

“We got a little carried away,” Tim said, “Emotions got a little out of control.”

“Yeah,” Kon said, fishing his shirt out from where he’d tossed it. He ran his hand through his hair again, looking everywhere that wasn't at Tim. “Do you—you’re staying at a hotel, right? Want me to—?”

“You should go home,” Tim said, standing up, although his legs felt like jelly. “It’s getting late. Mrs. Kent will worry about you.”

Kon looked up at Tim. “Uh, yeah. I guess,” he said. After a moment he got to his feet, still watching Tim, as though trying to figure out what had just happened.

Kon stared at Tim. Red Robin stared back.

“I’ll see you around I guess?” Kon asked.

“Sure,” Tim answered neutrally. His work was taking him to a lot of places, to a lot of dark corners.

“And you’ll pick up if I call?” Kon asked, tone slightly accusatory.

Tim had to look away, he couldn't keep facing Kon. It was all so much. “I should get going,” he said, “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Tim,” Kon said, taking a step forward.

“It was nice to see you Kon,” Tim said, turning to give Kon one last smile before he melted into the shadows. He paused for a second to watch Kon stand there in the gloom looking stunned, then beat a hasty retreat. With some determination and super hearing Kon would be able to find him again, so he had to move fast if he wanted to slip away.

Red Robin took a slightly roundabout route back to his hotel—not that it was really necessary, but it gave Tim some time to clear his head. When he climbed through the window he stumbled and nearly ended up on his face. Hissing at the ache in his hips and back and whole body, Tim dragged himself to the shower, stripping off his uniform in front of the mirror to get a better look at himself.

There were bite marks and hickies littering Tim’s skin between the bruises and wounds and scars. His face was still slightly flushed, and his already unwashed hair was an even worse mess. The bags under his eyes were a particularly vibrant shade of purple, and Tim could feel his head throb where he’d slammed it against the grating. When he brought his hand to the spot, it came back bloody.

Tim sighed and leaned over the sink, measuring first his breathing, then his heartbeat. He could feel something leaking out of his ass, and he shivered. For a second Tim felt the room spin around him, the edges of his vision going black. Tim grit his teeth and fought against it. He dug his nails into his palm, focussing on the pain, forcing himself not to pass out. Eventually his vision cleared and Tim was left staring at himself in the mirror, gasping for breath. Tim stared at himself trying— _ failing _ —to keep himself together.

What was he doing? What had just happened? Had he really just had sex with Kon in an abandoned lab? Had that even been real? Had  _ Kon _ even been real? Tim hadn’t had a decent nights rest in so long, it was hard to tell what he was even doing some days. There were moments where Tim lost himself, when it all got to be too much and suddenly it was hours later and Tim had hardly moved from what he was doing. There were days when he’d lie down on the bed and just stare at the ceiling, his mind going so fast he couldn’t pull one thought from another and suddenly it would be morning. One day he’d nearly gone off the road on his bike when he’d gotten into this kind of state. He could have lost his life.

The thought of randomly losing his life like that, in something so mundane as a motorbike accident, didn’t scare Tim at all. It should have, Tim knew that, but it didn’t.

He didn’t have time to die, though. He had to find Bruce first.

Sighing, Tim turned to get into the shower, turning the water on as hot as he could make it without actually burning his flesh off as he scrubbed himself raw. The water swirled pink around his toes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't write smut very often, so I have no idea how this turned out. Thanks to oneshinyapple for advice though!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is still pretty deeply set into canon, so if you're not sure what's going on I'd suggest either reading Red Robin (2009) or looking up a summary somewhere. I think after this chapter I'm going to split into my own plot lines, though I'll try to keep things more or less consistent with what went on in the comics at the time.
> 
> Quick note, I might have to take a break from writing for a while just for some real life stuff. I'm moving at the end of the months and I have Comic Con to prepare for as well (I'm actually cosplaying Red Robin). The next chapter might be a while away.
> 
> Big thanks to my lovely Ari for editing! Thank you for putting up with me!

Tim did his best to put it out of his mind.

It worked rather well, actually. He was so preoccupied with finding Bruce, the League of Assassins, Ra’s Al Ghul, the Council of Spiders, Tam, whatever the hell Blackest Night was, and a shit-million other things, that he hardly had any spare time to think about what had happened in Paris. In fact, a part of him couldn’t even acknowledge that Paris had even  _ happened _ . When he got stabbed in the desert, certain that he was going to bleed out, he’d wondered if he’d see Kon on the other side. As though he’d never even  _ seen _ Kon in Paris.

As though he’d never been fucked by him, either.

The most he’d done to acknowledge what had happened was to note the blood on the toilet paper every time he’d gone to the bathroom, from what was likely an anal fissure for nearly a week. He was lucky he didn’t develop an infection.

By the time Tim returned to Gotham, he’d mostly put it out of his mind. There was so much going on with Ra’s and the League of Assassins, as well as knowing, having  _ proof _ that Bruce was alive, that Tim had sort of forgotten about Kon, about Paris. It wasn’t until Kon was right in front of him, lit from beneath by the glittering lights of Gotham’s nightlife, Krypto at his heels, touching down on the roof  _ right in front of him _ that it all came back.

Tim hadn’t really realized until then how much of that night he’d shoved down. It had gotten to the point that Tim wasn't even fully sure if it had actually happened. In his mind he knew that Kon was back, he kept up with the news around the superhero world, but his mind was so jumbled by grief, by obsession, that reality had started to warp around him. His memories played trick on him. Had he really seen Kon in Paris? Had he really kissed him, laid out beneath him, had him inside of his body? It all seemed like something out of a dream.

As he looked up at Kon, it all came rushing back to Tim so hard it almost made him dizzy. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been depending on Kon, on his belief in him to see his mission through, even when he wasn't even sure it was real. Tim had clung to it, the idea that Kon believed him when no one else did. Even if was a figment of his imagination,  _ someone _ believed in him, and that had carried Tim through the worst of the nights where he felt like just giving up, like taking out a bottle of sedatives and just—

Kon was talking, making all kinds of funny quips that usually Tim would have no trouble sniping back at, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Everything was just too much. Tim could feel his chest begin to swell, his heart rate pick up.

“Tim? Hello?” Kon waved a hand in front of Tim’s face, trying to get him to respond. “Okay, now you're creeping me out. Will you say—”

Tim launched himself at Kon, throwing his arms around his body and burying his face into Kon’s neck.

“—something!?” Kon finished, startled by Tim suddenly jumping at him. His hand came up to steady Tim against him. “Tim? Buddy? If you’re trying to be all dark and grim now, this isn’t going to help.”

Tim nuzzled into Kon’s shirt, inhaling deeply. Kon smelled like fresh air, cheap soap, and just a bit of ozone from flying. He felt warm and solid and  _ real _ against Tim’s body. His breath tickled against Tim’s ear even through his cowl, and his hands were warm against Tim’s back and hip where they came to rest.

“You’re alive!” Tim pulled back to look at Kon’s handsome, sun-kissed face. He squeezed Kon’s shoulders, feeling the solid muscles flex under his hands.

“We covered this, I thought?” Kon said, smiling at Tim in a slightly bemused way, like he couldn't believe his friend was so ridiculous.

Tim felt like his heart was about to burst. “You were dead, Bart was dead. You don’t know what that was like… and now you're  _ back _ .”

“Uh, I know, and so did you,” Kon said.

Tim pulled his cowl back. No more hiding. “I knew you were back, that Bart was back… but it happened so fast, I never…” a glimmer of the memory of Paris crossed through Tim’s mind, “I never let it soak in. And when you found me in Paris, I was in a bad place.”

Kon searched Tim’s eyes. “ And now?” he asked.

“Now…” Tim glanced down at Kon’s lips, remembering how warm they’d been against his, how they’d moved against him. “Now I’m in a good place,” he said.

It was just the same as the last time; Tim wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing. Kon wrapped his arms around Tim, pulling him flush against him. Tim curled his arms around Kon’s shoulders, one hand coming up to tangle in his soft black hair. Kon’s tongue slid across his lips and Tim parted them with a sigh. Kon pushed Tim back against the wall, pressing his whole body against him and pressing his thigh in between Tim’s legs. Tim moaned and scraped his fingers across Kon’s scalp.

“Kon,” Tim panted into his mouth, shifting his hips against Kon’s solid thigh.

Kon jolted like he’d been electrocuted. “Cassie!” he shouted and suddenly leapt back, causing Tim to stumble and nearly fall over. They stared at each other for a second, both breathing hard.

“I—I’m back together with Cassie,” Kon said, eyes wide with—shock? Fright? The S-shield on his chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths.

“Oh,” Tim said, equally short of breath. “Right, of course.”

Picking up on the awkward tension in the air, Krypto whined and started licking at Kon’s hands, trying to make his master feel better. Kon looked down at him, breaking the eye contact. He patted Krypto’s head and cleared his throat.

“That was—” he started to say, then stopped.

“Yeah,” Tim said. He cleared his throat. “Guess we got caught up in the moment.”

“Again,” Kon said.

The air trembled slightly with tension, ready to snap at any provocation. Krypto whined again and started pacing between them, letting out nervous yips. He finally jumped up onto Tim, resting his head on Tim’s chest and whining, licking at Tim’s chin. Tim laughed and scratched his head.

“Krypto, no,” Kon groused, coming over to pull Krypto down by his collar. “Bad dog, don't jump up.”

“It’s fine, he didn't hurt me,” Tim said, giving Krypto another pat. He looked back up at Kon, startling a little when he realized how close they were.

He really wanted to kiss Kon some more.

Kon coughed and took a step back. “So you said you’re in a good place now,” he said. “Does that mean you found something?”

Tim thought of what he’d found, all the little pieces, and then the final nail in the (metaphorical) coffin. “Let’s just say… I’m getting there,” he said.

“How can I help?” Kon asked.

“I’ve still got a couple of things to take care of—” the threat of Ra’s taking a swing at Bruce’s legacy loomed in the back of Tim’s mind, “—and then… then I’ll be back.”

Tim hadn’t really realized how much he’d missed his team. Of course he’d missed Kon and Bart while they were gone, he’d missed them so much it felt like the pain was eating him alive, but he also missed the rest of the team. Being  _ on _ the team, surrounded by people who had his back, who trusted him and would follow him to the ends of the galaxy and back. He’d been through so much with them, he couldn't picture his life without them.

Kon smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good,” he said. “Because we miss you. Cassie, Bart…” For a half second, Kon glanced down at Tim’s lips, pupils going wide. “We all miss you Tim.”

After a second Kon cleared his throat and started to float up, away from Tim. “If you need me, just yell. I’ll hear you.”

Tim smiled, his heart clenching painfully. “I know you will Kon.” He watched Kon start to fly away and called out to him, “And thank you.”

“For what?’ Kon asked, looking back even as he kept drifting towards Kansas.

“For believing in me,” Tim answered. He didn’t know what would have happened to him if he hadn’t had that. Maybe it would have all worked out in the end, maybe Tim would have found all of the evidence he needed anyway, but he couldn't deny that having Kon’s belief in him had helped. Knowing that Kon, out of all the people in his life that Tim had thought he could trust, believed in him, had made all the difference. It had kept him going through some of his darkest moments.

Kon smiled and gave him a little salute before flying off into the night sky, disappearing behind smoggy cloud coverage. Tim stood there, enjoying the moment. Awkward as it had been, he was glad to have seen Kon. Seeing his friends alway gave him the boost he needed to really feel like he could take on whatever the world wanted to throw at him.

Speaking of the world throwing things at him, Ra’s’ voice crackling in his ear brought him out of his little moment. Tim grumbled and made some crack about computer trouble, plans and strategies already forming in his mind to combat whatever it was that Ra’s was going to try and throw at him.

It was time to get back to work.

* * *

When it was all said and done, after Tim had saved everyone and preserved Bruce’s legacy, Tim took a moment just to  _ breathe _ . He’d done it, he actually done it. He’d saved everyone, he’d  _ beaten _ Ra’s at his own game, and he was now an emancipated minor who owned a company.

And engaged, apparently.

_ One thing at a time _ , Tim told himself, wheezing as he got down from the medical cot. His whole body hurt, but Tim felt good. The rush from the fight had faded the moment he’d gotten tossed out of a window, but it went deeper than that. He felt  _ vindicated _ ; he’d done everything right and it had all come up in his favour in the end.

“Are you sure you don't want to lie down for a little while first?” Dick asked, gently helping Tim down from the cot, mindful of his dislocated shoulder.

“Later,” Tim said, shrugging into a robe. “There’s something I need you guys to see first.”

“Tim,” Dick said, and Alfred must have shot Tim up with the good drugs because he didn't feel the slightest bit annoyed at his tone. “Whatever you found, are you sure—?”

“Yes,” Tim said with a tone of finality in his voice. He turned to look at his brother. “You said you were going to trust me, Dick.”

“I do,” Dick said, looking both sad and resigned. “I just… I’m worried about you.”

Tim put on a smile. “Don’t be,” he said, starting to limp towards his folded up uniform. He dug through his utility belt until he pulled out the flash drive where he’d stored everything he needed to prove Bruce was alive. He grinned and waved it around. “Just get me to the computer.”

Alfred and Dick exchanged a look, but Steph didn’t hesitate in offering her shoulder to him. She was still sort of side-eyeing him, but he’d have to explain later. When she deposited him in the Batcomputer’s chair it was a little rougher than strictly necessary, making him groan in pain. She raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to challenge her, but he had bigger fish to fry.

Also he probably deserved it.

“I know you all think I’m crazy,” Tim said, plugging in the drive and booting it up. “For a while I thought I was crazy too, but I knew I couldn't give up.”  _ Kon believed in him. If nothing else, Kon believed in him _ . “And then I started finding  _ these _ .”

Tim took his time, showing each piece of evidence and explain where and how he’d found it. As he explained everything, he kept an eye on everyone’s faces. At first there was only scepticism, but slowly, as the evidence piled up, became more concrete, scepticism gave way to disbelief, which eventually gave way to astounded realization.

When Tim finished, he watched them all. Steph was staring up at the screen, trying to piece it all together the way Tim had, following his logic, and smiling when she couldn’t find a flaw. Damian’s face was somewhere between shock and anger, though to Tim he always seemed a little angry. Alfred’s eyes were suspiciously shiny, but he turned away before Tim could get a good look, going to sit down on a nearby bench and taking deep breaths. Dick stared up at the screen and then down at Tim, then back at the screen again.

“I… I…” Dick tried, unable to form words. He ran a hand through his hair and started to pace around. He looked back up at the screen and then at Tim again. “I… You—?”

“I’m going to refrain from making the obvious ‘I told you so’ quip here,” Tim said, grinning.

He knew he shouldn’t feel so vicious—this was probably a very emotional moment for everyone—but he couldn't help himself. Everyone had told him he was insane, that he was wrong, that Bruce was dead and he should just accept that, but now he was back and he was  _ right _ . He had proof that he’d been right all along, and everyone should have listened to him.

“Tim,” Dick said, “I… I don’t even know what to say.”

Before Tim could say anything, Damian scoffed, crossing his arms and sticking his chin in the air. “This is all very impressive,” he snapped, saying it so sarcastically Tim was surprised his tongue didn’t twist itself right out of his mouth, “but don’t let it go to your head,  _ Drake _ . We would have found all of this eventually.”

Dick sighed. “Damian—”

“This doesn’t mean anything!” Damian shouted. “ _ I’m _ the blood son, and you’re still a  _ charity case _ !” With that, Damian stormed from the cave, cape fluttering out behind him. There was a crash as he slammed the door to the cave at the top of the stairs.

Dick groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I better go talk to him before he does something reckless,” he said, moving to follow Damian up the stairs.

Dick paused for a moment and turned back to Tim, looking like he was about to say something. Tim waited, holding his breath and his heart constricting slightly in his chest. For a second, it seemed like Dick was going to stay with Tim, say whatever he was going to say, but then there was a crash from upstairs. Dick turned and hurried up to go investigate. Tim let out the breath he’d been holding with a sigh, digging his fingers into the bandages around his midsection.

“He’s a real piece of work, isn’t he?” Steph said, shaking her head. “Little brat.”

Tim huffed out a laugh. “He’s tried to kill me twice already,” he said. “He’s a little  _ psychopath _ .”

Steph snorted inelegantly. They stood there for a moment in silence, Alfred having wandered off. Steph tapped her foot and looked anywhere that wasn't at Tim while he fidgeted nervously. After a prolonged awkward moment she sighed and grabbed the newspaper from the console again.

“You want to explain this at all?” she asked, depositing it in his lap.

Tim picked up the paper and scanned the headline again. “I honestly have no idea what’s going on,” he said.

“Right,” Steph said, crossing her arms and cocking her hip. “You put all of this together from a gut feeling and a song, and  _ this _ stumps you?”

Tim sighed. “I honestly have no clue how this happened. Tam came to find me Baghdad and got caught up in my disaster,” he explained, “Vickie Vale must have cornered her.”

Steph raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “So there’s nothing going on between the two of you?”

“Not in the slightest,” Tim lied, remembering the time he’d kissed Tam just after they’d escaped the Council of Spiders.

Steph, ever the expert on seeing through Tim’s particular brand of bullshit, narrowed her eyes at him. Then she sighed. “Guess it’s not as though I can say much, even if there was,” she said. “It’s not like we’re together anymore.”

“Steph,” Tim said, reaching out to her. “You’re still important to me. Nothing can ever change that.”

Steph looked down at him and smiled a little at the corner of her mouth. She tugged off her cowl and then reached down to take his hand, squeezing it tightly. Tim smiled up at her, heart full to bursting; there was so much they still needed to talk about, so much that was wrong between them, but at least Tim was home again.

“Come on,” Steph said, helping tug Tim to his feet, “we should probably shoo your friends out of the kitchen before Kid Flash eats everything.”

Tim huffed out a laugh and leaned on her as they ascended the stairs. “It’s a real danger actually. Have you ever seen him eat?”

“Once,” Steph said, wrinkling her nose. “It was both impressive and disgusting.”

When they reached the kitchen, Alfred had already gotten to them and had managed to browbeat them into some semblance of order, so instead of ransacking the kitchen they were waiting patiently for sandwiches to be produced, chatting loudly as they did. Huntress and Manhunter apparently hadn’t stuck around—Tim didn’t think Manbat was allowed in the house, so who knew where he’d gotten to—but Bart, Cassie, and Kon were all still waiting, apparently, for him.

Bart noticed Tim first and let out an exuberant cry, zipping around the kitchen and crashing into him. He threw his arms around Tim and squeezed him tightly, much to the displeasure of Tim’s fresh stitches . 

“Tim!” Bart cried. “ImissedyouImissedyouImissedyou!”

“Hrrngh,” Tim groaned. “I missed you too, Bart.”

“Bart, ease off!” Cassie said, collaring the excited speedster and pulling him off of Tim. “He just got his dumb ass thrown through a window. You’re gonna snap him in half.”

“Sorrysorry,” Bart said, bouncing on his heels. “I’m just so happy to see you Tim.”

Tim smiled. “I’m happy to see you too, Bart.”

Bart flashed another megawatt grin and zipped around the kitchen. “Group hug!” he shouted, gathering Kon and Cassie together with Tim and then trying to get his arms around all three of them. It didn't work, but it made them all laugh, and Cassie put her arms around them all anyway to make up for it.

“It’s good to see you, Tim,” Cassie said, squeezing Tim gently. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m glad to be back,” Tim said, resting his cheek against hers for a moment. Over her shoulder he noticed Kon looking at them and felt his heart trip.

“I can’t wait to have you back at the tower!” Bart said once they all disentangled. “The Titans just aren’t the same without you!”

“Yeah man, when are you coming back?” Kon asked, and it was almost a shock to hear him sound so normal.

“Well,” Tim thought about all of the things he had to do, all of the things he still needed to take care of. So many loose ends, nowhere near enough time. “It… might be a while before I can come back.”

Bart’s face fell. “What? Come on, man, we need you,” he said.

“Yeah Tim, we miss you,” Cassie said, reaching out to him.

Tim glanced at Kon. When their eyes met, Kon flushed slightly and avoided his gaze. Tim felt something ugly slide through his gut, greasy and unpleasant. He looked back to Cassie and immediately felt worse.

“There’s… I have a lot of stuff to think about,” Tim said, trying not to let the guilt overwhelm him. “There’s still a lot I need to do.”

Bart looked crestfallen, but Cassie only sighed in disappointment. After a moment, she smiled at Tim. “It’s okay, Tim, we understand,” she said, pulling him into a hug. “Take all the time you need okay?”

Tim felt like his organs were going to twist themselves into knots from the guilt. “Thanks Cassie.”

“And don't forget,” Kon said, finally look up at Tim and smiling, “we’re still your friends. No matter what happens.”

Tim held Kon’s gaze for a moment. Though there was something in Kon’s eyes that Tim couldn’t readily identify, he still smiled back. Whatever this weirdness was between them, Tim would figure it out eventually, and fix it, and then they would go back to normal.

He just had to figure it out first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to go back and reread Red Robin to actually see how things happened, but I actually remembered it better than I thought I would. From this point on it will probably be less canon driven.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this ready a few days ago but s o m e o n e took their sweet time getting around to editing (jk I love you babe).
> 
> Trigger Warning for self-harm in this chapter.

Tim woke to the sound of his alarm blaring somewhere around his hip. Groaning, he rolled over and dug around in his sheets for his phone to silence it. For a moment, he stared at the numbers blinking at him and contemplated staying in bed for the day. Surely no one would blame him for staying in, not after all the work he was putting in around Gotham as both Red Robin  _ and _ Tim Wayne. He deserved a morning to sleep in, didn't he?

The second alarm went off and Tim groaned, shutting it off and tossing off his covers. As he made his way to the bathroom he mentally listed all of the things he needed to do that day. There was so much that needed to get done, Tim didn't know how he was going to get through everything.

It was better to keep busy anyway. Busy kept him from thinking too hard.

Tim made his way down to the kitchen, hoping that neither Dick or Damian were awake at this hour. Damian was still in a snit after discovering Tim’s ‘hit list’ and was taking every opportunity to take potshots at Tim; Dick was more or less just letting him do it.

No luck with enjoying an undisturbed breakfast it seemed; as Tim neared the kitchen, he heard voices. With a sigh, he steeled himself for whatever barbs Damian would throw his way that morning and entered the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee machine.

Damian didn't waste a second. “Up so early,  _ Drake _ ?” he sneered, using Tim’s name like a knife. “I thought you would laze about until noon at the earliest.”

“Well, I have an actual  _ job _ to do,” Tim said, pouring himself some coffee. “You know, contributing to the household and all that. I’m not a freeloader.”

Damian bristled, but Dick quickly stepped in. “Alright, why don't we just have a nice, quiet morning?” he said. He laid a hand on Damian’s shoulder, but quickly glanced up at Tim, flashing his  _ ‘please don't make this worse’ _ eyes.

Tim snorted, trying to convey ‘ _ he started it _ ’, but he only sipped his coffee. If anything was going to happen,  _ he _ was not going to be the instigator, but he wasn't going to let Damian get away with his behaviour. If the little shit wanted to pick a fight, Tim would give him one.

Thankfully the rest of breakfast passed uneventfully, if awkwardly. Dick tried to talk to Tim a little, but Damian decided to be uncharacteristically chatty and occupied most of Dick’s attention. Tim saw right through it, but he stayed quiet, knowing he would only come off as a whiny brat if he made a stink about Dick not paying any attention to him—even though they hadn’t really talked since Tim had returned. Knowing Damian, that was probably his plan anyway.

Once the painful experience that was breakfast with his (supposed) brothers was over, Tim headed out to Wayne Enterprises for the day. He had meetings and presentations all day with Tam and Tiffany, then he would have to put in a few hours of work with Lonnie and try to plan the next steps on his hit list, then he had to go on patrol. There was so much he had to do.

It was better this way.

The only time Tim seemed to get to himself lately was when he slept or showered. These were the only times that Tim had to be alone with his thoughts. More and more Tim found himself pushing his limits, pushing past the point of exhaustion until he all but passed out the moment he laid down. No time to think about anything that would keep him tossing and turning all night. In the shower he kept the water as cold as he could stand, scrubbing himself as quickly and efficiently as possible. He didn’t want to linger if he could help it.

Some nights however, there was no getting passed it. During patrol Tim had taken too many hits to avoid taking a hot shower to soothe the pain. It hadn’t even been some Big Bad Baddie, just some low-ranking goon that had gotten a few lucky hits in. Tim swore as he gingerly stripped out of his body armor. It wouldn't have been so bad if it the guy hadn’t managed to swing his baseball bat right where Tim’s spleen had been removed. The area wasn't one hundred percent healed; Tim would have to check to make sure he wasn't bleeding internally. The thought of a miserable cold shower made Tim want to just lie down on the cold tile and let death take him, so he cranked the heat up.

The first spray of hot water was near-scalding, but Tim only moaned at the heat washing over his aching body. He took his time washing himself, but stayed under the water after he’d finished, concentrating on relaxing his sore muscles. Tim took deep breaths, trying not to let his mind stray into dangerous territory. He tried to focus on the pain in his abdomen, his aching muscles, his whole body, to keep his mind from less savoury topics. It did little good however, and Tim’s exhausted brain started wandering away from him. Into things Tim would rather not think about.

Things like Kon.

Tim bit his lip and pressed his forehead into the tiled wall of the shower, trying to grind out the memory of Kon’s big, warm hands roaming his body, his solid weight on top of Tim, the burning stretch of his cock inside of him. Despite his efforts to quiet his mind, Tim’s body responded readily to the flood of memories, his cock stiffening between his legs. Tim grit his teeth and fought not to give in, but the physical needs of his body were too much to ignore.

Slowly, Tim slid a hand down his belly, hating how good it felt. He tried to picture something else as he wrapped his hand around his hard cock, anything that  _ wasn’t _ Kon’s exquisit body framed in dim light as he thrust into Tim. He tried to picture Tam, or Lynx, or Steph, or even some random woman from some random video that Tim could remember watching at one point. He tried to imagine touching soft skin, feeling pillowy breasts under his hands, but his brain wouldn’t cooperate. All he could think of was Kon’s hard body, of clinging to his broad shoulders as he was fucked into a mad scientist’s dirty laboratory floor.

Tim moaned as he stroked his dick, unable to stop himself from imagining Kon behind him, standing under the hot spray of the shower with him. How he’d smile at Tim, grinning against his skin even as he peppered Tim’s shoulders and neck with kisses. He’d drag his broad hands down Tim’s sides, grip his hips tightly as he pushed in. The hot, thick slide of him would make Tim’s knees buckle, and they might go toppling ass-over-teakettle, if not for Kon’s tactile telekinesis holding them in place.

Together they would make a symphony of gasps and moans, of steel skin slapping against hot flesh. Tim whined and stroked himself faster, resting his cheek against the tile wall and reaching behind himself with his other hand. As he pressed his fingers against his hole, Tim had to be careful to keep his footing or otherwise slip and bash his head into something. There wasn't anything to slick himself up with other than water, but that was fine, Tim only teased himself a little. Just enough to remember the  _ feeling _ , the burning stretch when Kon entered him.

It had felt so good. It had  _ hurt _ .

Tim stroked himself faster, popping the tip of his finger into his entrance. It didn’t take him long after that; he came with a full-bodied shudder, spilling over his hand and gasping for breath in the steamed-up air. He stayed there for a while, his brain slowly rematerializing through the fog of orgasm.

As the shocks of pleasure faded, the shame started to creep back in. Tim gritted his teeth and shut off the water, turning off the cold tap first so the hot water spiked and scalded him for a second. Then Tim stepped out of the shower and went straight for his toolkit under the sink.

He didn't like doing this, but some nights, he didn't have any other options—there was no other way to quiet the turmoil in his mind. Tim dug out his toolkit, an unassuming zipper bag hidden behind some epsom salts and cleaning products, the kind of thing someone might put makeup in. Tim unzipped it and pulled out an exacto knife and a bottle of disinfectant.

Tim made quick work of cleaning the knife, making sure the edge was sharp and without any jagged spots. Taking a deep breath, Tim pressed the blade into the side of his calf, just under his knee. The pain was a shock to Tim’s system, and for a moment it seemed to align everything. Blood trickled down the length of Tim’s calf, dripping to the tiled floor.

“I’m in control,” Tim told himself, making a second cut under the first, then another one under that. “I’m in  _ control _ .”

Tim let the knife slide out of his hand and clatter to the floor. The cuts bled sluggishly, the bright red drawing the eye even through the foggy air. Three cuts, two fewer than last time Tim had needed to do this. That was good, that was better. Tim reached for his toolkit again and brought out a pad of gauze. He squirted some disinfectant on it and pressed it to the cuts, hissing at the sting. The straight, clean cuts would seal up easily without any stitches, but Tim didn't want to risk an infection. He taped the pad down and set about cleaning up the pool of blood. He made sure to wipe on the knife, taking care not to leave any flecks on the blade or fingerprints on the handle.

Leave no evidence behind, nothing but scars.

When Tim was finished cleaning and putting his toolkit back in its hiding spot, he finally reached for his towel and dried off. He didn’t bother to check what he looked like in the mirror. If he had to look at himself he’d just end up getting his toolkit out again. Instead, he left the bathroom, got into some pyjamas, and crawled into bed.

That night, Tim dreamed of Kon’s loving hands wrapped around his throat.

* * *

Tim really had meant to figure it out, but in between getting his life back together and going through his hit list, he didn’t really have a lot of spare brain space. With everything else going on, it was just easier not to think about it. Besides, he had Lynx, Tam, and even Steph; why should he dedicate any brain power to thinking about a one-off tryst with his friend? It happened all the time, didn't it? People got lonely and sought comfort in the people they were close to. That it had happened with Kon didn’t mean anything. Kon was a close friend, someone Tim trusted, someone he cared deeply about. His death and sudden reappearance in Tim’s life had just made everything bubble up into some sort of desperate need for physical intimacy. He and Kon were friends, nothing more.

Right?

There was no use pondering it too much anyway—Kon was back together with Cassie, as it always should have been. They made a lovely couple, and they seemed very happy together. Tim also had his own relationship troubles. Things with Tam seemed to stall at every turn, but they were slowly moving forward. Plus there was the whole mess with Lynx, a situation that scrambled his brains a little, but at the very least it was a straightforward sort of mess. There was all of the work Red Robin still needed to do to find Bruce and the work Tim Wayne needed to do to fixing up Gotham. Tim barely had time to  _ eat _ . He certainly didn't have the time to go pondering all the things that shouldn’t be pondered.

Speaking of eating, for once Tim had managed to scrape together enough loose moments to have lunch with Ives. It was nice to see Ives, despite all the questions Tim had to dance around. For an hour or two, Tim didn’t have to think about capes, about superheroes, about being Red Robin. Even if it was only for a little while, Tim could pretend that he was just a normal guy, catching up with a friend from high school.

“So how are things as a teenaged CEO, man?” Ives asked. “It’s gotta be weird, right?”

“Honestly, I don't do that much,” Tim said, “and I’m not actually CEO, I’m just the major shareholder.”

“Still, it’s weird, right?” Ives asked, “Like, high school dropout to top of the food chain? That nepotism must taste nice.”

Tim laughed. “It certainly has its perks,” he said.

Ives snorted. “Whatever man, your life has been weird since the day I met you. I’ve never known another guy who had so much weird shit happen to him.”

Five years. It had been only five years since Tim had become Robin at the tender age of thirteen. He was only seventeen now. It felt like he’d lived a lifetime. “It’s been pretty crazy, that’s for sure,” he said, but he couldn't keep the ache out of his voice. All the things he’d sacrificed, all the people he’d lost.

Ives noticed Tim’s drop in mood. “Sorry, didn't mean to bring up bad memories,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Tim said, trying to smile but coming up a little short.

An awkward silence hung in the space between them. Before things could get too strained, Ives coughed to clear the air. “So what’s the deal with you and Tam? You said that whole engagement thing was a load, but the way you talk about her.” Ives waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter, it’s not like that.”

“A-ha, so there  _ is _ a ‘that’ of which to speak,” Ives said sagely, grinning broadly. “Come on, man, give me the deets.”

“It’s just lunch a few times,” Tim said with a shrug. “We do work together, after all.”

Ives sighed. “I don't know how you do it man,” he said. “Ariana, Steph, Zoanne, now Tam? Everywhere I turn girls just throw themselves at you. What’s the secret man?”

Tim shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said, gracefully not mentioning Cassie, Lynx, and even Greta, if he thought far back enough. So many girls he’d been involved with.

And not a single one of them seemed to stick.

Tim tried not to be bothered by it—he was young, people his age went through relationships as often as they changed socks—but it always felt like there was  _ something _ wrong each time the relationship went sour. Like there was something Tim just wasn't doing right. He loved the girls he’d dated, there was a place in his heart dedicated to each of them, but there was  _ something _ he was missing.

“Hey Ives?” Tim asked, the words bubbling up from inside him somewhere. “What’s it feel like when you’re with a girl?”

Ives looked up, raising an eyebrow. “I would have thought  _ you _ knew that by now. Better than I would, anyhow.”

“I know what it feels like when  _ I’m _ with a girl, but what do  _ you _ feel?” Tim insisted.

“What, do you want to compare notes or something?” Ives asked. When Tim glared at him he put his hands up. “Fine, sheesh. When I’m with a girl… I feel like I want to hold her close, kiss her, touch her all over. Not always even in like, the  _ fun _ way you know?”

That seemed familiar enough to Tim. “Yeah, that’s really nice,” he agreed.

“I mean, I  _ also _ wanna touch her in the fun way, but you know, if I really like her the other stuff gets mixed in,” Ives said, grinning widely.

Tim stalled for something to say, taking a sip of his coffee to cover it. That was… not something he’d ever really felt. He liked kissing and cuddling his  _ girlfriends _ just fine, but someone he wasn’t romantically attached to? Even the thought made him want to wrinkle his nose.

“There’s a sour face,” Ives said. “You okay man?”

“I…” Tim couldn’t think of anything to say. What could he say, really? “Have you… had sex?”

Ives’ eyebrows shot up over the rim of his glasses. He glanced around the diner to make sure no one was listening. “Er… no, not yet. What with the chemo and everything, there wasn't a lot of opportunity. But here’s hoping right?” He raised his cup of coffee in a sort of salute.

“Yeah sure,” Tim said, sipping his own coffee.

“What about you?” Ives asked. “Have you done the deed yet?”

“No,” Tim said with a measure of confidence he wasn’t sure he should have. Well, he hadn’t done it with a girl, at least. And that time with Kon didn’t actually  _ count _ .

“Really? With all the girls you’ve had around, I would have thought you’d have had plenty of opportunity,” Ives said. “I mean, didn’t Steph have a baby? She’s certainly got to have some experience at least.”

“Don’t be gross, Ives,” Tim said, “and it wasn’t like that, between us,” he explained. “I really liked Steph, I didn’t just want to  _ use _ her like that.”

“Who said anything about ‘using’? Two people consenting to have a little fun together doesn’t sound like ‘using’ to me,” Ives said. “It sounds like everyone having a good time.”

“I guess that’s true,” Tim said, feeling silly for being so defensive.

Ives watched Tim for a second. “So you and Steph never did anything when you were together? She never brought it up?”

“Not really,” Tim said. “We didn’t really have much time or brainspace for that stuff. We made out a lot, but I think there was a part of her that didn't want to risk it again.” Tim hadn’t forgotten that Steph had wanted to keep her baby at first, only deciding on adoption when she realized it was the best choice for the baby.

Ives hummed. “And none of your other girlfriends ever brought it up.”

Tim thought about it. “Well, Ari did one time, but I figured it was better to wait. We were just kids, after all.”

Ives looked at Tim incredulously. “Dude, you had a girl as pretty as Ariana offering herself up to you, and you said  _ no _ ? What’s wrong with you?”

It was said with a tone that was clearly meant to be joking, but Tim felt his hackles rising. “There’s  _ nothing _ wrong with me!” he said, too loud even for the busy diner. A few heads turned.

Ives looked shocked. “Okay okay,” he said, putting his hands up, “it’s fine man, I was only joking. Chill out.”

Tim grumbled and went back to his coffee, unable to stop the irritated twitch in his fingers. He felt like he was struggling with a case, the solution just at the end of his fingertips, but he couldn't quite grasp it. He everything, all the evidence, but he just couldn't get everything to align in a way that made sense.

“There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with me,” Tim said again, slouching back into the booth.

“Sure,” Ives said. Silence crept over them for a few moments. “You sure you’re okay man? You seem a little testy.”

“I’m fine,” Tim said shortly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Guess I haven’t been sleeping. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Ives shrugged. “It’s fine dude, I’m used to you being weird,” he said, smiling at Tim. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Tim checked his watch an grimaced. “Actually, I think I have to get going,” he said.

“Aw c’mon man,” Ives whined.

Tim chuckled and stood up, draining the last of his coffee. “Sorry Ives, nepotism has a bitter aftertaste.”

“Of course,” Ives sighed. “Nothing in life can ever be simple, can it?”

Tim felt something turn over in his stomach. “Not really.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people are clamouring for Kon's perspective on events, but we're still with Tim for the moment. Don't worry, next chapter is going to be Kon's.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a bit with this chapter and had the rework it a couple times, but in the end I think I got it how I liked it. I actually have two chapters done, this one and the next, I just hadn't gotten around to posting them. I don't know when I'll be able to write over the next little while as I'm pretty busy with real life stuff lately.
> 
> No triggers for this chapter unless you don't like heterosexuals.

It was date night, and for once it had gone off uninterrupted by some sort of interdimensional catastrophe. Kon and Cassie were going to go see a movie and then go for a walk through the city. Kon also knew that the Tower was completely deserted tonight, so there was a good chance they’d be heading back there after the sun went down for a little ‘alone time.’ Kon should have been jumping out of his boots with excitement.

He couldn't stop thinking about Paris, the catacombs, the lab.

Kon had tried to put it out of his head, but his brain just didn’t want to let it go. He knew he should have forgotten about it, that there was no reason for him to be so caught up on something that shouldn’t have even happened in the first place, but he couldn’t get it out of his head.

Kon forced himself to focus, to be in the present moment, sitting with Cassie in a darkened movie theatre. Normally Kon would have to focus on keeping his hands to himself, but now it was all he could do to not think about two bodies coming together under the streets of Paris.

“So how did you like it?” Cassie asked, startling Kon as they walked out of the theatre.

Kon jolted, “Huh?”

“The movie?” Cassie asked with a bemused smile on her face. “You were watching the screen so hard I thought you might set it on fire.”

“Oh,” Kon said, “It was alright.”

Cassie waited a beat. “That’s it?” she asked. “Just ‘alright’?”

Kon flashed her a shy grin—the kind that had helped him wiggle out of his fair share of trouble—and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry Cassie, I guess I’m a little tired.”

“Yeah? Up to no good as usual?” she asked, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. She batted her pretty blonde eyelashes at him.

“You know it,” Kon said, curling his arm around her, his hand resting on the small of her back. They laughed together and it seemed for a moment things would go back to normal, but then Kon had to open his big stupid mouth again. “It’s just taking some time to adjust to being back is all.”

Cassie stiffened against him. “Ah, right,” she said, “it must be difficult. To… come back after so long.”

Kon regretted saying anything and searched for something else to talk about. “Hey, ice cream!” he announced, apropos of nothing, pulling Cassie towards the shop. “Let’s get some.”

Cassie squeaked as she was dragged along, but her spirits soon returned as they ducked inside the little creamery. They both got waffle cones overflowing with too many scoops and toppings, giggling as drops melted onto their fingers. They flew up to the top of a skyscraper to enjoy them, looking out over San Francisco. The sun was starting to go down, casting the whole world in a sea of yellows, oranges, reds, and pinks. Cassie curled up into Kon’s side, sighing contentedly and letting her fingers play with the hem of his shirt. Kon popped the last bite of waffle cone in his mouth and wondered if Tim would like to sit like this.

Cassie stretched up to kiss Kon’s jaw. “Let’s head back to the Tower,” she hummed.

Kon glanced down at her and smiled. “Yeah?”

Grinning, Cassie pecked him on the lips before floating into the air. She held out her hand for him, smile becoming sly and coy. Kon smiled back and reached for her, only for her to dart away into the air, laughing. Kon’s smile widened and he flew after her, the two of them chasing each other over the city, flying just for the sake of flying. Kon was faster than Cassie and could have easily caught her, but it was more fun to play cat and mouse for a while.

Eventually they wound up at Titan’s Tower, where Cassie had been leading them the whole time. Cassie waited for him at the top of the T, smiling and breathing a little heavily. Kon nearly flew into her, stopping at the last second so the air rushed passed her, flinging her hair around her shoulders. Cassie laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck to tug him down for a kiss.

“Come on,” Cassie breathed against his lips, “I just washed my sheets.” She grinned. “Let’s go mess them up.”

Kon smiled and curled his hands around her waist, tugging up the edge of her shirt with his TTK to get his fingers against her warm skin. “Sounds like fun,” he purred.

Cassie smiled and kissed him again before taking his hand and pulling him along to her bedroom window. Kon thought about what was about to happen, about the condom he’d stowed in his back pocket because he’d known they were heading here, and he wondered what Tim was doing right now.

Kon knew he should forget it, that Tim wanted him to forget and he should honour that, but he couldn't put it out of his mind. In his head he went over it over and over again, cataloguing every detail of that night. Even when he was with Cassie, he couldn’t help but think of Tim.

He didn’t know why he’d done it. Even without the benefit of hindsight it hadn’t been a good idea. Kon had only just gotten back together with Cassie the previous week, and he’d been so happy about it. Then he’d found Tim in Paris, alone and half out of his mind with obsession. Kon had never really seen him that way, even after his dad died. Every line of his body seemed worn, ragged, like Tim was taking on the world with no one in his corner to help him.

Kon would always be in his corner. Even the knowledge that Tim had tried to clone him couldn’t change that.

Kon couldn’t really pinpoint who’d kissed who first, it had just seemed to happen. One moment he was comforting his best friend, the next he was kissing him. It had seemed like such a natural progression of events at the time. Everything from then on just seemed to fall into place.

Then when it was over, Tim had left him there. He’d put distance between them, put his walls back up, leaving Kon shut out once more. Then Tim had disappeared, leaving Kon alone in the lab to wonder what the fuck had just happened.

Kon had tried to figure it out, tried to pick each moment apart, trying to understand. Eventually he’d decided that didn’t matter, that he was with Cassie and Tim clearly wasn’t interested in talking about it. He’d tried to erase it from his mind, which had worked fine enough until he’d seen Tim again in Gotham. Everything he’d thought he’d gotten rid of came bubbling to the surface, not gone but dormant. It had rushed up and Kon had kissed Tim again, only just catching himself this time, remembering that he couldn’t do that to Cassie.

It twisted him up inside, every time he was with Cassie and he couldn’t get him mind off of Tim, but he couldn’t help himself. He loved Cassie, he wanted to be with her, but his brain kept wandering back to Paris.

When Kon actually spared a thought for what had happened, he admitted that it hadn’t been that great. The abandoned laboratory wasn't all that romantic a setting in the first place, even without the knowledge that it had been cleaned out with the specific purpose of cloning him back to life floating somewhere in the back of his mind. It had been cold and Kon couldn’t get the smell of the sewer out of his nose. The lab floor had been dirty and uncomfortable.

Even Tim hadn’t been at his best. Kon could tell that he hadn’t bathed in a while, and his teeth weren’t brushed. Tim’s hair had been greasy and the dark circles under his eyes made Kon wonder how long it had been since he’d slept. The angle hadn’t been that great, what with Tim’s pants barely halfway down his thighs preventing him from actually holding Tim close like Kon had so badly wanted to do, even though Tim desperately needed to shower and brush his teeth. Following that the way Tim had left him there afterwards—abandoning Kon to muddle over what had just happened on his own—hadn’t been very fun. Overall Kon wouldn’t have rated it as a great experience.

In the present, Kon mouthed a trail of kisses down Cassie’s neck and chest, palming a breast with one hand, the other sliding through her slick folds. She sighed as he pushed a finger into her and stroked her fingers through his hair. Kon stretched up to kiss her, tasting the caramel sauce she’d had on her ice cream and the faintest hint of spearmint toothpaste. She smelled fresh and clean even as she started to sweat as he worked his fingers, like soft soap and sweet perfume. When he finally thrust into her she shivered and arched her back, tossing her silky golden hair over the pillow. Cassie was exquisite under him, miles of smooth, beautiful, tanned skin. Any man would have to be out of his mind not to want to fall to their knees and worship every inch of her.

Kon couldn’t stop thinking about Tim.

He tried to concentrate on the present, on rocking his hips at just the right angle to make Cassie squirm and let out those beautiful little sighs he loved so much, but his head wouldn’t cooperate. He kept thinking of Tim, of how he’d groaned and gasped when Kon had thrust into him. Kon wondered what Tim liked in the bedroom, if he liked it slow and sweet or if he’d want it rough. Try as Kon might, he couldn't get his mind away from Tim.

“Kon?” Cassie asked breathlessly, having noticed Kon seemed distracted. “You okay babe?”

Growling, Kon tried to focus, tried to keep himself in the moment, tried to think only of Cassie, how much he loved her and wanted to pleasure her. After a moment, he gave it up and slowed his hips, pulling out of her. “This isn’t working,” he said.

“Oh.” Cassie frowned and sat up, her chest heaving. “Maybe I could get on top? Would that work?”

Kon groaned and rubbed his face. “No, I don't think it’s that,” he said. “I’m so sorry Cassie.”

“Hey, don’t be,” Cassie said, leaning over and wrapping her arms around him, her naked flesh warm against his. “It happens. Just not in the mood?”

“Something like that,” Kon said, pulling her close, feeling the guilt and frustration bubble through his veins. “I’m sorry Cassie, I don't know what’s wrong with me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cassie said. “We had fun anyway.”

Kon hummed, mind still miles away, somewhere close to Gotham. Even with Cassie’s naked breasts pressed flush against his chest, he couldn’t help it. He felt Cassie tugging him down to lie down on the bed, the two of them still entwined around each other. Cassie tucked her head under Kon’s chin and nuzzled into him.

“Is it anything you wanted to talk about?” she asked.

A dozen words bubbled up, clogging Kon’s throat like the Three Stooges all trying to get through at once and getting stuck. He coughed and tried to pick something. “It’s nothing really,” he said, “just…”

“Just?” Cassie prompted.

Kon chewed on his sentence for a while, trying to get it to feel right. “It’s just still weird I guess.”

“What is?” Cassie asked, relaxing slightly as they talked.

What to choose from? “Everything,” Kon said with a shrug. “Ever since I came back it’s just been non-stop weird.”

Cassie immediately went stiff in his arms. “R-right,” she said, swallowing audibly. “It must be odd, to come back from being gone so long.”

Kon frowned. “Yeah,” he said, not sure what was wrong with her wording. “I just… can’t stop thinking about it. About what happened. All the things I missed.”

Cassie buried her face into his chest. “You didn’t miss anything, trust me.”

“I missed a whole year,” Kon pointed out.

“Yeah and it was a really shitty year,” Cassie grumbled. “Trust me, there wasn’t much that you need to know about.”

Kon’s frowned deepened, but he could sense that Cassie was growing more uncomfortable by the minute and decided he’d rather just lie there with her for a while. Maybe it would have been smarter to bring up that he’d had sex with Tim.

“Let’s just get some sleep,” Cassie sighed. “I’ll make pancakes for breakfast.”

“Sounds good,” Kon said, knowing he wasn’t going to sleep a wink that night.

* * *

Kon didn't know what was wrong with him.

Things had been weird since he’d come back from the dead. Of course, things had been weird for Kon since he’d been ‘born’, so there was no reason for things not to be weird. Yet through all of the weirdness, Kon had thought he’d kept a pretty level head. He didn’t bat an eye at aliens and alternate dimensions or shark people; that kind of stuff was Tuesday for him.

Now however, he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of anything. Coming back to life after a year of being dead—actually  _ dead _ —was strange. It was weird to meet people who had lived for a whole year while he’d been gone. It wasn't like he’d been  _ gone _ though, he’d been dead. People had mourned him, and then kept living their lives. It was so weird to think about it; Kon didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't know if he was angry that he’d died, happy to be back, or sad that things had gone on without him. If he hadn’t come back, things would have continued without him.

People died and the world moves on, Kon knew that all too well, but there was something in him that sort of expected the world to stop when he did. It was self centred maybe, or maybe that was just how people were wired? Why should they have to think about the world moving on without them when they were dead? They were dead, it was the end for them, whatever came next didn't matter.

Unless the dead came back.

Kon was trying to take things one day at a time, slowly figuring it out. It would probably be easier if people would actually acknowledge what had happened. No one wanted to talk about it, even the people who’d been most affected by his death. Cassie couldn’t talk about it without holding herself so stiffly it felt like she might snap under the pressure. Ma Kent had to leave the room every time it was brought up. Kon would catch Clark staring at him sometimes like he was surprised to see him. It hovered at the edges of everyone’s peripheral vision, but no one wanted to talk about it.

Luckily, Kon was not alone in this strange resurrected boat. 

“It’s so weird,” Bart said, twirling a strand of licorice around, “it’s like if they talk about it we’ll just drop dead in front of them or something.”

“Yeah,” Kon said, “and like, I don't know about you, but I kinda feel like everyone just wants us to just act normal.” He pulled a licorice from the bag. “Like, they want me to forget that I died.”

Bart hummed. “Yeah I get that sometimes,” he said.

“I wasn't lost, or gone, I was dead,” Kon said, waving the licorice around to emphasize his point. “Capital ‘D’  _ dead _ . Someone  _ killed _ me and I was dead.”

“Know that feel bro,” Bart said, toasting his licorice to Kon before stuffing it in his mouth.

“People mourned us,” Kon said. “Our friends and family had to mourn us. Did you hear about what Tim did?”

“He tried to clone us,” Bart said. “It’s kinda sweet, and a super creepy, really weird way.”

“Cassie joined a cult that worshipped me,” Kon said. “These are things that happened because we died.”

Bart sighed and flopped backwards, stretching out in the sun. They were sitting on top of the Titans Tower, enjoying the San Francisco weather. “What can you do man? Our lives are weird.”

Kon sighed. Speaking of a certain blacked-haired teammate of theirs; “Have you heard from Tim at all?” Kon asked.

As much as Kon was wrestling with his own mortality and the fate of all living things in the universe, he was having an even harder time grappling with how he felt about Tim.

Ever since Paris, Kon couldn’t stop thinking about Tim. It was starting to get ridiculous, even for the levels of weird that Kon was used to. It felt like gravity, like he was a meteorite being pulled out of orbit, careening towards Tim, burning up on entry. No matter what he did, he couldn’t pull himself out of it again.

“No, I haven’t heard anything,” Bart said sullenly, snapping Kon out of his head. “I guess he’s been busy. You see what happened on the news?”

Kon groaned. “I saw. I was halfway to Gotham when Clark called me to tell me that Tim hadn’t actually been shot. I nearly had a heart attack.”

“He’s an asshole,” Bart commiserated, “but we love him.”

Kon picked up another strand of licorice and twirled it between his fingers. “Yeah,” he said.

They hung around in silence for a while, each warring with their own head. Kon glanced over at Bart and watched him for a minute. He’d known Bart as long as he had known Tim, the three of them friends since basically the beginning. He tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss Bart. Would it be the same as kissing Tim?

“Hey Bart?” Kon asked.

Bart looked up from rummaging around in the bottom of the licorice bag. “Hm?”

“Have you ever kissed another guy?” Kon asked.

Bart blinked. “Uh, can’t say that I have,” he said. “I mean,  _ yet _ anyway.”

“Yet?” Kon asked.

Bart shrugged. “Who knows what the future will bring?” he said. “I’ve never kissed a guy, but I’ve never met a guy I wanted to kiss either.”

“Have you  _ thought _ about kissing a guy?” Kon asked. “As in, what it would be like?”

“A couple times I guess,” Bart said. “Personally I think people are too focussed on the kissing. Why can’t we just be around the people we like? Why’s it gotta be about kissing?”

“I like kissing,” Kon said.

“I mean, it’s  _ nice _ ,” Bart said, “but I wouldn’t go out of my way.”

Kon hummed, considering that for a while. He didn’t think he could go without kissing—or any of the other stuff that went along with it—if he were with a person. He liked kissing, and he liked being with girls, but he’d never considered being with a guy. Would it be all that different? Kon stared out over the bay and thought about whether or not he’d like to kiss a guy.

Again.

When Kon had been born, he’d had knowledge implanted in his brain. Everything a teenager could possibly need had been dumped into his head via telepathic transfer—math, science, history, language, social norms, basic bodily care, how to work common technology, and of course the basics of sex.

However, the ‘basics’ of sex seemed to only cover sexuality as it pertained to heteronormative ideals. Kon hadn’t really known about other sexualities and gender identities until  _ after _ he’d escaped Cadmus. He’d been informed that something called ‘homosexuality’ existed and it meant being attracted to the same sex as oneself, but that was where Kon’s original ‘queer studies’ section of his education stopped. Since then he’d learned of a whole spectrum of sexualities and genders and all sorts of ways one could identify themselves, and Kon had thought that it was all wonderful. Anyone should be allowed to love whoever they wanted or be whatever they wanted, and it sometimes made him angry that people couldn’t see the beauty in that.

He’d just never thought of it pertaining to himself.

Kon wasn’t sure if it was just that the scientists who’d cooked him up hadn’t thought to include what being attracted to other guys felt like in his ‘education’, or if he himself had just been blocking out those sorts of thoughts until now, but ever since kissing Tim (again) in Gotham it was like a switch had been flicked on in his head. It was as though there had been an entire section of his brain that had been lying dormant, present but inert, and kissing Tim had sent the machinery spinning into overdrive to make up for the lost time. Now it was all Kon could do to keep his thoughts on girls now that he knew he was attracted to boys too.

Kon hoped that was why he couldn’t stop thinking of Tim even when he was with Cassie.

“Hey Bart?” Kon said, the words coming up before he could think better of it.

“Mrm?” Bart asked, having zipped off to fetch a bag of marshmallows now that the licorice was done.

“I think I’m bisexual.”

There was a beat of silence. Kon’s heart tripped in his chest until he looked back at Bart and noticed that he’d stuffed his mouth too full of marshmallows to answer him. Bart held up a ‘waitaminute’ finger and quickly chewed and swallowed.

“Cool man, I’m happy for you,” he said. He held out the bag of marshmallows. “Want one?”

Kon snorted and shook his head. “Sure, thanks,” he said, taking one from the bag.

“You’re welcome buddy,” Bart said. They sat for a while longer, enjoying the setting sun, marshmallows, and each others company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm not very good at Kon's voice, at least not as good as I am with Tim. I love Kon to bits, but I resonate with Tim more, which is why I think I focus on Tim more. From here on out I'll be doing more chapters with Kon's perspective.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said I would be following my own canon from chapter 3 onward, but I've actually followed pretty close to the comics canon up to this point. I think now that we've basically come up to the end of the Red Robin and Teen Titans run I'll mostly be going in a different direction from this point on (as this was the time when N52 happened and the N52 can go f*ck itself). For those who don't know what's important for this chapter, I'll put a recap in the end notes.
> 
> Trigger warning for self harm, an extreme anxiety episode, and a lot of blood.

The weeks sidled by as they usually did, each crisis sliding into the next in the same manner to which Tim had become accustomed to since he’d been thirteen. There was always something to do, even when things were relatively calm. Tim did his best to keep up with things, and for once it seemed to be going alright. Armed with hard evidence that Bruce was alive, the Justice League finally listened to Red Robin and—with a little help and a lot of luck—they fished Bruce out from wherever he had been lost in time. Then there was the whole fiasco with Lynx, keeping Vicki Vale off his scent, dealing with the Unternet, and a dozen and a half other fires that Red Robin had to put out.

The latest fire had finally done something that Tim had been both excited for and dreading; it had brought him back to the Teen Titans. It had been so long since he’d seen them, it felt like too long had passed. How could he explain himself? Luckily, after the initial prank—which Beast Boy  _ had _ put them up to, the jackass—everyone seemed happy to see him. There was little awkwardness as Tim feared there would be, and working on the team again felt  _ right _ .

Even things with Kon seemed to be going well. They bantered and traded barbs as they always had, their old chemistry coming back as easily as Dick did backflips. There was no trace of any weirdness between them.

Tim could totally do this.

Currently, he and the rest of the team were taking a much needed breather at the Tower. Tim had decided to stay after the mission was over, wanting to reconnect with everyone. He was getting better all the time. Every day he needed his toolkit less and less, and it had been a week since he’d last used it. Bruce was back and things were looking up. Tim was feeling pretty good today.

“Pizza’s here!” Gar called, carrying two huge stacks of pizzas in either hand (as a giant green gorilla). He gave one entire stack to Bart. “Those ones are for you.”

“Thanks for footing the bill Tim,” Bart said, already digging into his first pizza. “We really appreciate it.”

“What else am I gonna do with all that major shareholder money?” Tim asked, taking a slice.

“Build an underground cave to hold all your bird themed gadgets?” Cassie suggested, making everyone laugh. Tim just rolled his eyes and took the good-natured teasing.

“Where’d the little birdie go?” Rose asked, glancing around. “He not like pizza?”

“I don’t think he ‘likes’ anything,” Tim said, “and I’m pretty sure he left for Gotham.”

“Is that safe? He’s just a kid after all,” Cassie asked.

“I’m pretty sure the little brat could take on an army and come out with barely a scratch and a scathing comment,” Gar said. “No offence Tim, I know he’s your brother and all.”

Tim waved the hand that wasn’t holding a slice of pizza. “I’ve said worse. To his face even.”

Rose hummed and picked a banana pepper off her slice to pop it in her mouth. “I kinda liked the little shit,” she said. “He was kinda fun.”

“‘Fun’, sure,” Bart said, reaching for his second box. “In a tiny psychopath kinda way.”

Tim laughed, feeling light and happy. There was a lot going on in his life right now, so much so that some days he just wanted to stay in bed and not exist for a while, but  _ this _ felt right. This felt  _ good _ , in a way Tim didn’t think he’d let himself feel in a very long time. If he had more days like this, he was certain he’d never have to touch his toolkit again.

Kon finished off his fourth slice and licked grease off his fingers. “So I have something to announce,” he said, “and since you’re all here I figured now is a good a time as any.”

Tim looked up at Kon, all of them waiting for whatever it was. Bart suspiciously vibrated in his seat, grinning like he’d just raided the fridge. He most likely knew what Kon was about to say.

Kon took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before he letting it out with his declaration. “I’m bisexual.”

Tim’s breath caught in his chest, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. His vision started to go white at the edges and his ear started to ring. Around him everyone was smiling, telling Kon that it was fine, it was great that he was bisexual and they were so proud of him for coming out. They told him they loved him no matter what, that they always would and that being attracted to men didn’t change that at all.

Tim couldn’t breathe.

“Are you alright Tim?” A voice cut through the din. Tim’s head snapped up to see Raven staring at him from under her cloak.

Tim coughed, dislodging his breath from where it was stuck. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, forcing a smile. “Just heartburn. I think I ate too fast.”

“You want some antacids?” Bart asked. There was the crackle of electricity in the air and the flutter of wind as Bart zipped away and brought back a bottle of Tums, holding it out to Tim.

Tim took a couple and tried to keep smiling. He tried to keep having fun with his friends. He tried to look in Kon’s eyes at least once, just to prove that he was fine and there was nothing wrong.

Tim had never been more terrified in his life.

He stayed as long as he was able, long enough that it didn’t seem weird when he excused himself. Tim kept his smile firmly in place, ignoring Raven’s concerned looks, even as he fled the room. He had to get away, he had to find somewhere to calm down.

He needed his toolkit.

Tim hadn’t been back to the Tower since becoming Red Robin, and he hadn’t updated his room to meet his new requirements. As such, he didn’t have a toolkit in the Tower. There were plenty of medical supplies, but he didn’t have anything sharp. His disks had sharp edges, but they weren’t meant to cut deeply. If he tried them, they would only bruise and tear his flesh. Too risky for being surrounded by his friends, people who would notice if he hurt himself too badly. The kitchen had a couple knives, kept razor sharp to keep up with how much food was made with them. Tim would have to make a detour, potentially running into someone else, but it was just a risk he was going to have to take.

Stalking silently but quickly through the halls, Tim made his way to the kitchen. Luckily it seemed like everyone else had already turned in for the night. There was no reason to cook, not with all the pizza that they’d eaten. Tim might actually manage to do this.

In his overzealousness however, Tim failed to notice that someone was in the kitchen until it was too late. Tim swore internally when he spotted Kon shoving a couple pizza boxes into the fridge and tried to extract himself before he was spotted.

“Tim?” Kon called, head perking up. “What are you doing here? Thought you went to bed?”

Tim forced himself to act casual. “I was just getting some water,” he explained. He went to the cupboard and tried to figure out a way to get a knife out of the drawer without Kon noticing.

Kon watched Tim for moment, and he could  _ feel _ his eyes burning against his back. “Tim?” he called, “can we talk?”

Tim’s heart pounded in his chest, every muscle in his body screaming at him to run, put as much distance between himself and the situation as possible. “What about?” he asked.

Kon frowned. “I think you know what Tim,” he said.

Tim forced himself to breathe normally. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kon stalked forward and curled his hand around Tim’s arm, holding him in place. “Tim,” he said, “I know you remember what happened in Paris.”

_ Kon’s warm body overtop of him,  _ inside _ of him. It hurt, it felt so good. _

“Kon, please,” Tim begged, trying to pull away.

“Tim, I  _ really _ think we should talk about it,” Kon said, keeping a firm grip on Tim. “We can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

“It seems to be working so far,” Tim said, unable to look Kon in the eyes.

“Is that why you’re heart is going so fast I’m worried you’re about to have a heart attack?” Kon asked.

Tim couldn’t handle this anymore. “Let me go Kon,” he demanded, trying to put as much authority into his voice as he could muster.

Kon’s grip tightened. “Is this about me coming out? Because you’re the one who asked me to—“

“Let me  _ go _ Kon,” Tim said, wrenching his arm free. Kon was strong and solid, and the way Tim ripped his arm free meant that there was going to be a pretty spectacular bruise there later. “There’s nothing to talk about. Paris was… a momentary lapse.” He smiled up at Kon even as he backed away a few steps. “I’m happy for you for coming out, I really am. It’s great that you can open about your identity. I’m… I’m not like that.”

Kon stared at Tim, eyes searching for something in Tim’s face. Tim couldn’t stand being there for another minute. He turned and all but ran from the kitchen, heart slamming in his chest. He wasn’t able to get a knife from the kitchen, but there was no way he’d be able to go back there. He needed  _ something _ though, something to stop the chaos in his head.

Ravager, she had knives, lots of them, all of them kept razor sharp and  _ designed _ to rip through human flesh. Tim made his way through the tower to Rose’s room, hoping that she wasn’t in there already.

Tim made doubly sure that Rose wasn’t around before sneaking into her room, not wanting to get caught unawares again. Once he was certain that there was no one around, he quickly snuck inside, making sure to override the security footage. He quickly located Rose’s armoury and picked out a knife. A flat blade, serrated on one side but straight on the other. It would work fine for tonight. Working quickly, Tim tucked the blade away and made sure to leave no evidence as he left. He closed the door and started to make his way down the hall.

He’d only just turned the corner when he almost ran right into Rose.

“Oh, hey Rob,” Rose said, jolting only a little. “Where are you off to?”

Tim’s voice stuck in his throat and he coughed to clear it. “Just checking security,” he said. “It’s been a while since I was here and I wanted to make sure everything was up to code.”

Rose hummed. “And?”

Tim put on a smile. “Right as rain,” he said. He started to slip passed her.

Rose caught him, putting a hand on his chest. “You know, I kinda like the new look,” she said, pressing her body against his. “All dark and broody. Makes you all sexy.”

Tim didn’t resist as she pressed her lips against his, her arms curling around his neck. He tried to kiss back, put his hands on her, do  _ something _ , but he couldn’t seem to move.

_ I should want this _ , Tim thought letting Rose push her tongue into his mouth.  _ She’s beautiful, she wants me, I should want this. _

_ Why don’t I want this? _

Rose pulled away, extracting herself from Tim. “I can take a hint,” she said. “You didn’t want me before, guess I shouldn’t have expected different now.”

Tim found the energy to move finally. “Rose—“ he reached for her.

“Save it,” she said, still grinning. “I don’t take it personally. You still have that other little number, right? Isn’t she Batgirl now?”

Tim tried to pull together the words to explain himself. Rose just waved him off and turned to head to her room. “Goodnight ‘Red Robin’. Have sweet dreams,” she said, not a trace of being offended in her tone. Tim waited until she was around the corner to bolt.

The knife burned against his hip where he’d stashed it.

His room was just as he’d left it the last time he’d been there—which was no small thing, considering how often the Tower caught fire or blew up. Tim locked the door behind him and went straight for his bathroom, locking that door as well for the extra security. He put the knife on the counter and stripped quickly, most of his uniform ending up in the bathtub or flung over the toilet. When he was down to his shorts and undershirt, Tim ripped the medicine cabinet open and went for the rubbing alcohol. He didn’t bother to wet a towel with it, simply dumping the solution over the blade, not caring that he got it all over the counter.

Tim plopped down onto the floor and dug the blade into his leg. In his haste he accidentally used the serrated side and swore as his flesh shredded. He flipped the blade over, almost fumbling it, slick as it was from the alcohol. He sliced into his calf again, the sharp metal sliding through his skin and muscle like butter. Tim hissed and grit his teeth, trying to get the chaos to align back into something that made sense.

“I’m in control,” Tim said aloud through gritted teeth. He made another cut, then another. “I’m in control.  _ Please _ let me be in control.”

Tim cut into his calf until there was too much blood to see where he’d made a cut already, then switched to his other calf, trying to keep the cuts as straight as possible. Unwanted memories plagued his mind; the burn of Kon’s cock inside of him, the sweetness of Steph’s—Rose’s—Lynx’s—Tam’s mouth on his, the sharp edge to his mother’s voice, the brittle quality of his father’s jokes. Tim cut until his mind went quiet.

When he came back to himself, there was blood everywhere; flowing freely from his legs, pooling on the floor, all over his hands. The bath rug was soaked, it would need to be thrown out. Tim dropped the knife and tried to steady his breathing. He counted eight cuts on one calf, and seven on the other, for a total of fifteen. Tim swore and made to stand, his knees feeling like jelly, so weak that he had to lean heavily on the counter to keep himself steady. Hands shaking, Tim grabbed the medical kit from the mirror cabinet and sat back down on the floor, uncaring of the blood he was sitting in.

Still trembling, Tim went about cleaning his cuts, barely flinching at the sting of the disinfectant. He didn’t have the energy to even twitch as the solution burned him. He’d gone deeper than he’d meant to, and would need to be careful over the next few days. He probably should have stitched them, but he could hardly see straight. He’d have to do it in the morning, or otherwise let them heal on their own.

Once the cuts were bandaged, Tim considered the blood pooled on the floor and tried to get up to clean it. He stayed where he was, limply propped up against the wall. The thought of expending that much energy to clean up just exhausted Tim to the point where he might as well sleep on the bathroom floor.

Tim jolted, suddenly aware that he’d been dozing for who knew how long. Enough time that the edges of the pool of blood had gone tacky or even dry in some spots. With a groan, Tim heaved himself up, gripping the edge of the counter to pull himself onto wobbly legs and hobbled out to the bedroom. He stripped out of the last of his blood soaked clothing and collapsed naked on the bed. He curled up on top of the covers and tried to just fall into the darkness.

* * *

Kon stared after Tim as he bolted from the kitchen. He could hear Tim’s heart pounding on his chest, his breathing coming short and pained. It was almost like when they were in the lab and Tim had that strange attack, just before they’d had sex.

_ I’m not like that _ , Tim had said. Did he mean not into men like Kon? Or that he wasn’t able to be open like him?

“Kon?”

“Jeez!” Kon jolted, only just not attacking the person who spoke. “Cassie, you snuck up on me.”

Cassie cocked a brow. “Didn’t you hear me come in?” she asked.

Kon rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I guess I was distracted,” he said. He was still considering going after Tim to try and talk to him.

“Yeah, guess there’s a lot on your mind,” Cassie said, going quiet for a moment. Silence invaded the space between them and Kon could feel the awkwardness hitch a ride on it’s back.

“Cassie?” Kon asked, unable to stand the weirdness. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Cassie said, obviously not fine. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “So, bisexual?”

Kon frowned, wondering where this was going. “Yeah? Is that a problem?”

“No!” Cassie said, putting up a hand as though to stop the thought from going any further. “No, it’s nothing like that. I support you no matter what Kon.” She paused, biting her lip. “it’s just…”

“Just?” Kon prompted.

“Just…” she stalled again, looking around the room as though trying to find the words she wanted written on the walls. She finally looked up at Kon, eyes full of questions. “Was this the reason you broke up with me?”

Kon thought back to only a few days ago, in front of the statue of former Titans. The sun setting around them, the wind blowing her hair around her shoulders so elegantly. He’d told her he wanted to let her focus on leading the team, that he wanted to focus on being normal for once in his life. He loved her, he’d always love her, but he hadn’t thought that being together was right for either of them at the moment.

“It’s… part of it,” Kon said with a sigh. “I’m not going to lie to you Cassie, it’s  _ part _ of it. I meant what I said, I  _ do _ want to try the normal thing, figure out who I am outside of Superboy. Figuring out my sexuality plays into that.”

Cassie crossed her arms and looked away from him. Kon sighed again and stepped toward her. “Cassie… I do love you, please don’t question that. But… there are things about me I’ve never explored. There’s so much about myself that I don’t know, and… I deserve the chance to figure it out, don’t I?”

There was a beat of tense silence, then Cassie sighed. “You do,” she said, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Sorry, I guess I’m taking this too personally. I guess I was just shocked.”

“Sorry,” Kon said. “I didn’t plan on making any sort of announcement, but everyone was together, so I figured it was a good a time as any.”

Cassie nodded, starting to smile. “A heads up would have been nice though,” she said. “All I could think about tonight was whether or not you broke up with me because you wanted to kiss boys.”

“I mean, I  _ do _ want to kiss boys,” Kon admitted, “but that’s not why we broke up,” he said, comfortable enough now to joke about it.

Cassie laughed. “So,” she said, “any boys in particular you want to kiss?”

_ Tim _ , Kon’s mind immediately supplied. “No one in particular,” he said. “I’m kinda new to this. I’m not even sure how to go about flirting with guys.”

Cassie laughed. “I’d offer you tips, but I don’t think they’d apply,” she said. Her eyes became a little sad. “I’m happy for you Kon, I really am.”

Kon smiled back at her, equally as sadly. “Thanks Cassie.”

Cassie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She smelled like peaches today, some sort of body spray. Kon held her close and wished he knew what the hell he wanted.

Eventually Cassie pulled away. “I should get going to bed,” she said. “Goodnight Kon.”

“Night Cassie,” Kon said, watching her go. He wondered if he’d made the right decision.

* * *

Tim woke late the next morning, feeling for all the world that he hadn’t slept a wink. For a while, he just laid there, still naked, still uncovered by the sheets, too exhausted to even shiver in the coolness of the room. At some point he must have been thrashing in his sleep and tore off his bandages, leaving streaks of blood on his covers.

With a long sigh, Tim pulled himself off of the bed, his head pounding as he did so. It took him a moment to steady himself enough stand up. The cuts on his legs throbbed and oozed blood, reminding Tim that he’d cut deep enough that he needed to stitch them. Walking gingerly, Tim went to inspect the damage in the bathroom.

It looked as though someone had been murdered there. The large pool of blood had dried into a tacky red mess, and there were streaks and smears everywhere, as well as bloody handprints. The bloodied knife remained where Tim had dropped it, strangely innocuous and accusatory at the same time.

Tim stared at the mess for a moment, trying to plan out in his head how he would go about cleaning. He decided to first tend to his cuts a little better; it was awkward to stitch himself up, but years of practice came in handy. The cuts would scar a lot worse than the other ones, but that was something he’d just have to deal with.

After cleaning and dressing his wounds again, Tim started to clean up. The bathmat was done for, and he’d need to bleach the spots where the blood had stained, but he could do this. One foot in front of the other, he could do this.

As Tim was scrubbing the bloody handprints from where he’d gripped the counter, he caught a glance at himself in the mirror. He was covered in blood, smears and drops of it everywhere, across his face and neck, flecked onto his shoulders and chest. He was surprised he handed noticed how his hands were stained orange from it. The bright red colour stood out starkly against the deathly pale of Tim’s skin, and Tim had the somewhat hysterical thought that he looked a bit like a horror movie ghost. His face was worst of all; dark circles like he’d broken his nose framed his eyes, which were bright and shiny with something like fear. Tim had put back on some of the weight that he’d lost when he was travelling around to find Bruce, but he was still thinner than he should have been. Tim bit his lip; he was a wreck.

“It’s fine,” Tim said to himself, starting to scrub the counter again. “This was just a little mishap. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

Once the cleaning was done, Tim rescued his uniform from the bathtub and put it aside to be cleaned. It was still a little dusty from the previous days mission, so he could probably get away with giving it to Alfred. Cursing a little, Tim took off the bandages he’d just put on and then got into the shower, keeping the water as cool as he could stand.

Pink water swirled around Tim’s feet, but Tim did his best not to think about it. He washed as fast as he could, ginger around his stitches. When he got out he made sure to dry and wrap his legs up again. He towelled the rest of the way off and then went to his bedroom to dress. noticing how bloodied his cover had gotten, he stripped it off and put it in the corner he’d stashed the bathmat in, planning to toss them both.

Once Tim was dressed in some civvies he’d kept at the Tower, he wandered down to the common area, sliding a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes. From the commotion making it’s way into Tim’s ears, everyone was mostly awake already. When he finally turned the corner, he was nearly bowled over by Bart.

“Oops!” Bart exclaimed, grinning to widely to be genuinely sorry. “Sorry Tim!”

“Get back here!” Cassie hollered, and then Bart was gone with a rush of air and the crackle of electricity. A furious Cassie flew after the streak that was Bart just a moment later.

“Bart ate all the leftover pizza this morning for breakfast,” Gar explained, sidling over to Tim. “Even the box Cassie put her name on.”

Tim whistled. “It’s a good thing we’re insured.”

Gar laughed. “Our insurance provider probably hates us. Come on, there’s omelettes.”

Tim followed Gar to the breakfast nook where there were indeed omelettes. Tim grabbed himself a plate and went to go sit down. He stalled slightly when he finally noticed that the only open seat was next to Kon.

Cursing internally, Tim forced himself to go over and sit down. Kon looked over at him, but Tim only smiled blandly and turned to eat his omelette. He could do this, he could make this work.

Tim ate his breakfast quickly, making polite conversation and then making some excuse about having to head back to Gotham to beg out of training. If he trained with the others, he would for sure rip his stitches. He promised he’d be in touch and then wandered off to clean his plate.

Tim knew the moment Kon stepped into the kitchen behind him, the presence of him filling the room. For so long, Tim had found that larger-than-life presence so comforting, and somehow it still was, even though it filled him with dread. The mix made Tim’s stomach twist oddly.

“Tim?” Kon asked softly, coming up to stand next to Tim at the sink while he washed his dishes. “Are you okay?”

Forcing himself to stay calm, Tim smiled up at Kon. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered.

Kon furrowed his brows. “You sure? Last night you were all…” he trailed off and made a vague hand gesture.

“Ah,” Tim said, feeling something cold creep across the back of his neck, “don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I… wasn’t feeling well last night.”

Kon gave him a look like he wasn’t buying it for a second. “Tim—“

“Look Kon,” Tim interrupted, “I really am happy for you, that you can be honest about who you are, and I one hundred percent support you.” He gripped the plate he was holding in a white knuckle grip. “But I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not— I  _ can’t _ —“

“Hey,” Kon said, laying a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim hadn’t realized how much he was starting to work himself up. “It’s okay, alright? We don’t have to talk about it yet.” He put on a soft smile, the kind that made Tim wonder how he’d ever survived before it.

_ Kiss him _ , some traitorous part of Tim’s brain said. He tried to grab a hold of it so he could crush it, kill it, but it slithered away the moment he tried. Tim focussed on getting his heart to slow down again.

“Thank you Kon,” Tim said, wondering why it felt like a lie on his tongue.

Kon patted his shoulder. “When you’re ready, I still think we should talk,” he said, “but I won’t push you, okay?”

Tim nodded, hating that he was thinking of Rose’s knife he’d tucked away in a drawer to sneak back into her room later. Kon gave his shoulder another pat and then walked off, leaving Tim to stand at the sink and hate himself for wishing for Kon to come back and put his arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the comics there was a short time in Pre52 where Damian was on the Teen Titans—like a couple issues short time—before Tim came back to the team and they had to go fight Calculator. Just before Tim came back to the team (the famous 'You'll always be my clone boy' line comes from this comic), Kon breaks up with Cassie, saying he wants to focus on who he is outside of Superboy and let Cassie focus on leading the team. From here on out Kon and Cassie were broken up and Tim was back on the Teen Titans, which is what is most important for here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took way too long to get finished, but I've been super busy. I finally got things set up at my new apartment and I've been hecking busy at work. Hopefully I can write a little more in the coming weeks.
> 
>  **Trigger Warning! Please Read!**  
>  There is a suicide attempt in this chapter, please be warned.

Kon heard him long before he saw him. He’d been out in the field exercising Krypto when he heard the telltale whistle of air and the flap of fabric in the wind. Kon had known this was coming, but he hadn’t really thought it would reach him so soon. Superheroes were a gossipy bunch, but Kon figured he’d have at least another week to work himself up about the conversation he was about to have.

When Clark touched down, Kon was surprised to see him in civvies and not his uniform. It seemed like the only time he and Clark saw each other was during ‘business hours’, so to speak. Kon remained silent as Clark approached, watching him adjust his glasses and fix his hair. The sun was starting to set, casting the world in a warm golden glow. The days were growing colder and the fall harvest had just ended, so there wasn’t much left in the fields for the moment, giving Kon a clear view of Clark walking over to him.

“Nice day,” Clark said, smiling as he bent to greet Krypto, patting him and scratching him behind his ears.

“Yup,” Kon said, hating that he could taste the awkwardness in the air.

For a few minutes, they just walked together in silence, Kon throwing Krypto’s manhole cover into the distance for him to chase. Occasionally Clark would inhale, the muscles in his throat contracting as he prepared to say something before he stopped, the air rushing from his lungs and his jaw clenching. Kon tried to block out the sounds, tried not to feel the minute shifts in the air, but he was too keyed up, dreading the conversation that needed to happen next.

“So I heard something the other day,” Clark finally got out in a rush, the words bleeding into one another. “About you.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” Kon asked.

“I wanted to check with you first,” Clark said, dodging the question. “Just to make sure that it wasn't just Green Lantern pulling my leg.”

“How the hell did Green Lantern hear about it?” Kon asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“That’s really not the important part here Conner,” Clark said. Silence floated for a moment. “So?” Clark asked.

“So what?” Kon asked. He was not going to make this easy on Clark.

Clark let out a breath. “Are you bisexual?”

Kon had been ‘coming out’ for days now, telling the people in his life about his newly realized orientation. His friends for the most part, a couple of people at school, not too many people. He’d expected the news to travel through the Superhero community on it’s own, so he’d originally intended to tell Clark the day after he came out to the Titans. When he’d picked up the phone however, he’d found he couldn't dial the numbers. He couldn’t make himself fly to Metropolis, and he couldn't make himself talk to Clark about it.

“Yeah,” Kon said, “I’m bi.”

Clark’s lungs deflated with a sigh. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Kon asked, raising an eyebrow, slightly challenging.

Clark smiled. “Okay,” he said.

Kon relaxed slightly. “Okay,” he repeated.

Clark smiled wider and clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as they continued to walk. Silence settled, more comfortable now, but there were still things that Kon felt like he needed to say.

“I  _ was _ going to tell you,” he said a few minutes later. “I was going to call, but…”

“We don't really talk on the phone,” Clark answered for him.

Kon pressed his lips together. “Yeah,” he agreed.

For all his and Clark’s relationship had improved since Kon had come to live on the farm, it still felt like there were gaps in it. They rarely talked when there wasn’t some sort of monster attacking, or when Kon had done something dumb and needed a stern talking to, or any time when there wasn’t  _ something _ wrong. Clark had his life and Kon had his own, and rarely did those intersect outside of Superman and Superboy.

Clark sighed, long and deep. “Conner…” he started, then stopped. “Kon-El, I wanted to talk to you. Not just about what I’d heard, but about… other things as well.”

Kon’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Oh? What kind of things?” he asked, trying to think if there was something he’d done in recent memory that might warrant a ‘talk’. “If this is about the cows, I already apologized to Mr. Gunderson.”

“What? No, it’s not—what did you do to Mr. Gunderson’s cows?” Clark asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Uh, nothing?” Kon tried.

For a second it felt like the old pattern would repeat, and Clark would start in on him about being responsible and setting an example with his actions. Kon braced himself for it, but then Clark just sighed, something sad crossing his face.

“No, I guess I can’t really grill you about it, I don’t even know what happened,” he said, sounding defeated. Clark gave a wan smile. “We don’t really talk, do we?”

Kon had done his best to bury the resentment he felt whenever he thought about his relationship with his ‘father’ had developed. Now it came back in full force. “Who’s fault is that?” he snapped before he could help himself.

Clark flinched just slightly. “Mine,” he admitted, surprising Kon. “Kon-El, when I heard about you being bi from Green Lantern, the only thing that I could think about was that I should have heard it from you.”

“I said I was going to call,” Kon grumbled.

“That’s not what I meant,” Clark said. “I meant that  _ I _ should have heard it from you, not that you should have told me.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. “I started to wonder  _ why _ you hadn’t told me, and I realized I’d never really given you a  _ reason _ to trust me that way, and that’s my fault. I can’t expect you to treat me with that kind of respect when I haven’t given you a reason to.”

“I respect you,” Kon said softly, meaning it. He respected Superman, he respected Clark, enough so that he’d dedicated a good chunk of his life living up to the expectation of being the heir apparent to that legacy.

“As a mentor maybe,” Clark said, “but not as a  _ father _ .”

Something sharp and hot ran through Kon’s guts, and he hated that his heart started to beat faster. “I’m your clone, not your kid,” he huffed. Clark had made  _ that _ perfectly clear.

“How you came to be born isn’t any fault of your own,” Clark said, “and I think… I need to stop holding that against you.”

Kon had always suspected that Clark held a grudge against him for being a clone, but to hear it confirmed made his heart clench painfully. He  _ got _ it, being cloned was weird and violating, and suddenly you had a weird teenaged version of yourself running around and getting into trouble; all of this  _ after _ coming back from the dead. Kon would have freaked out a little too.

That didn't make it sting any less.

Clark laid a hand on Kon’s shoulder. “I haven’t been fair to you Kon-El, I know that. I left you alone for too long, expected too much of you, and I didn’t step up to the plate when I should have. You were— _ are _ just a kid, and I’ve been ignoring that.” Clark paused and took a deep breath. “I know… it’s probably too late at this point, but… maybe we can start over? Try again? I can… I can try harder this time, to be what you need. To be a… father.”

Before Kon could stomp down on it, the old resentment bubbled up. “I  _ don’t _ need you,” he hissed viciously, but it sounded flat and hollow even to his own ears.

Instead of backing off, recoiling like he might have years ago, when they first met, when Kon was younger and more unsure, Clark squeezed his shoulder, the same sad look on his face. “I know,” he said, “and that’s my fault, isn’t it?”

Kon took a shaky breath. Clark tugged him closer, keeping his grip light enough that Kon could shrug him off if he wanted, and finally pulled him into a hug. Kon stayed stiff for a moment, then sank into it, trying not to think of all the nights he’d wondered what it must be like to have a  _ real _ father, to be a  _ real _ boy. Burying his face into Clark’s shoulder, Kon brought his hands up to grip at Clark’s shirt, knowing he was probably too old to be clinging like that but not  _ caring _ because he’d always wanted this.

He’d pushed it down, shoved it away, but there had always been a part of him that wanted this, wanted to be treated like a son. He’d never had a family, a childhood, he’d never gotten to grow up like other people. Kon was a science experiment gone rogue, he didn’t  _ get _ to be normal. Clark was the closest thing to a ‘normal’ parent he had, and it always seemed like Clark wanted to pull away from that at every turn. Leaving him to his own devices when he was barely more than a few weeks old, only bothering to name him months later, dropping him off at his parent’s place after he’d lost nearly everything, passing him off as his ‘cousin’ to strangers. Kon had taken a long time to enjoy life in Smallville, but every time he heard the word ‘cousin’ had made him want to fly away and never come back.

“I’m sorry Kon-El,” Clark said, barely more than a whisper, squeezing him tighter. “I haven’t been here for you, not in the way you needed me.” He pulled back and with a start Kon realized his eyes were wet with tears, making him realize that he was crying as well. Clark brought his hands up to cup Kon’s face gently in his hands. “I can’t promise I’ll do it perfectly, I can’t promise I won’t screw up, but I promise I’m going to  _ try _ . I want—” Clark choked a little, bending down to press his forehead to Kon’s. “I want to be  _ better _ . I know we can’t start over, not completely, but I’d like to try again. If you’d let me.”

To his own horror, Kon sobbed, unable to find his voice. All he could do was reach for Clark again, his hands and his TTK pulling him close. Clark went without a struggle, circling his arms around Kon. It wasn't often that Kon felt small, but Clark still had several inches on him and had a way of wrapping himself around someone so as to almost engulf them, like he was trying to protect them from the world.

Kan had never had anyone to protect him, he’d never thought he’d needed anyone to. Now, all he wanted was to curl up in his father’s arms for a while, feeling the love and safety he’d never known he’d missed.

* * *

Tim was  _ fine _ .

Despite the whole mess with Viktor Mikalek, Azrael trying to burn Gotham to cinders, the Assassin Tournament ending with more mysteries than answers, and mother fucking  _ Captain Boomerang _ again, Tim honestly felt that he was doing alright. Sure, Tam would probably never speak to him again for lying about her father being not-dead, Scarab had escaped and it was all his fault, and he still had no idea where to even  _ start _ unravelling who the hell was behind the Assassin Tournament, but for the most part, Tim thought he was doing okay for himself. The Nest was now almost completely functional, things at Wayne Enterprises were starting to smooth out, and Tim was back on his team with his friends. Tim felt like he was finally starting to find his footing as Red Robin.

So he was  _ fine _ .

Tim sped through the streets of Gotham toward the Manor, revelling in the blurred sights of the city as he rushed passed them. It was starting to get cold, but Tim couldn’t bring himself to mind that much even when the frigid air jumped up his nostrils and made his lungs seize. The streets were slick with the remnants of a rain shower, making driving at the speeds Tim was reaching all at once dangerous and exhilarating. Tim took a corner too hard and had to fight with his bike for a moment, the contraption and physics nearly bucking him off. His heart pounded even as he let out a whoop of delight, putting on a burst of speed as he tore through the streets.

Tim took his time getting to the Manor, just enjoying being out for once. Moments like this seemed to become rarer and rarer over the years. More than once Tim thought about rebuilding the Redbird. After all, Batman had multiple vehicles, why couldn’t Red Robin?

Tabling fantasies of his own car for the moment, Tim finally pulled into the last stretch of his journey, the long tunnel that led to the Cave. He was meeting with the others for a mission, but Bruce had assured him that it wasn’t there wasn’t much of a time constraint and Red Robin could take his time getting there. When he pulled into the Cave, he swerved to park next to the Batmobile, missing it by an inch.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” Bruce asked, watching Tim climb off his bike.

“I thought you said it wasn’t urgent,” Tim pointed out.

Bruce gave him a look of dry disapproval, something he’d undoubtedly learned from Alfred—though his was nowhere near as dry. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Don’t scratch my car.”

“I didn’t,” Tim said, but he was grinning. Bruce just let out a sigh and watched as Tim hopped up the steps to the main area.

They were chasing some new leads on some gang activity throughout the city. There wasn’t much to go on, but they were gathering intel for right now. It was looking like it would probably be quiet tonight. They determined that Batman and Robin would take the financial district and it’s Wall Street type gangsters, Nightwing would take a jaunt along the docks, Batgirl would hit up the old warehouse district, and Red Robin would revisit his old stomping grounds in Chinatown.

“Is everyone clear on their objective?” Bruce asked, looking over the table at each of them.

“We are to observe only,” Damian said with some kind of authority in his voice. “We are not to engage or interfere.”

“Look don’t touch,” Steph said, twirling a batarang around her fingers. Dick snorted at Damian’s unimpressed expression.

“More or less,” Bruce said, the corner of his mouth twitching minutely. He steeled his face and pulled up his cowl. “I expect everyone back here at the end of the night.”

_ Come home alive _ , he meant.

They broke to prepare for the coming mission. Tim busied himself checking his grappling hook, trying not to notice Dick casting sidelong glances at him. Things were still odd between them, though Tim had mostly moved passed everything that had happened. Damian—as much as Tim hated to admit it—had come a long way since he’d nearly killed Tim, and a large part of that was thanks to Dick taking him under his wing while they’d been Batman and Robin. Now that Bruce was back in the cowl, Damian was his Robin now, and they were working well together, though Tim noticed that Damian still sometimes responded better to Nightwing than to Batman. Even still, Damian was not the same little psychopath that he’d been when he first arrived, cold and ready to murder his way into where he’d been told all his life he was meant to be.

“You’re spending an awful lot of time checking your grapple Drake, have you forgotten how to do it?” Damian sneered. “I’d be happy to show you if you need a refresher.”

That didn’t make him any less of a little shit though.

“I’m checking to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with,” Tim snipped back. ‘You never know who could secretly be an evil demon out to get us.”

Damian growled, puffing up like an angry cat, but luckily Bruce was there to intervene. “Enough,” he said sternly, directing it mostly at Damian, but making sure to give Tim a side eye as well. “Red Robin is perfectly capable of handling his own maintenance.  _ You _ on the other hand have been lagging behind,” he said pointedly, gesturing to Robin’s equipment laid out. “If you get started now, we might be able to leave with everyone else.”

Tim smirked to himself as Damian stalked off, grumbling in Arabic. Tim finished checking his grapple and moved on to strapping all his gear in place.

“He’s a good kid, once you get to know him,” Dick said, unsubtly putting himself in Tim’s line of sight. He must have gotten impatient.

“I’ll believe that when he stops being an unbearable little gremlin first,” Tim said, trying and failing not to be annoyed with Dick.

Dick sighed. “He’s much better than he was,” he tried.

“I know that,” Tim said, “he’s still a little shit though.”

Dick chuckled. “He’s a bit of an acquired taste, I’ll admit,” he said. “Hey, after patrol tonight, we should go do something, just the two of us,” he smiled big and bright, eager now that he seemed to have cornered Tim into conversation. “We can go train surfing if you like, or just get some burgers and fries and find a rooftop. It’s been ages since we hung out.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Tim snapped, the words spilling out before he could think better of it.

Dick’s face fell. “Tim, I was only doing what I thought was best,” he said.

The anger in Tim surged before he could cap it. “Sure, best for Damian and best for you, damn whatever I have to say about it,” he said, stowing his collapsible staff in his belt and fixing his cape in place. He pulled up his cowl and stalked passed Dick towards his bike. “I’ll see you after patrol,” he said.

“Yeah, see you,” Dick said, voice cold with hurt and anger. Tim could tell he wanted to lash out, yell at him for his shitty attitude, but he also felt like he didn’t have any stable ground to stand on and they both knew it.

Red Robin hopped on his bike and peeled out of the Cave, Batgirl close behind him on her Ricochet. She pulled up next to him and grinned, putting on a burst of speed and tearing off ahead of him. Red Robin smiled and indulged her, chasing her into the city, leapfrogging through traffic with her. The familiar rumble of the Batmobile behind them kept them from being too reckless, but by the time they reached the city they’d had their fun. Tim broke off from the others, heading towards Chinatown. He passed Nightwing as he did, but kept his gaze forward, not wanting to see whatever was on Dick’s face. Longing? Regret? Fury? Red Robin didn’t want to distract himself from his mission.

Chinatown hadn’t really changed much since Tim had left Gotham. He shouldn’t have expected it to; Tim hadn’t actually been gone from Gotham all that long, a handful of months at best. It  _ felt _ like he’d been gone for a long time. The months he’d spent searching for Bruce had taken him to so many places, both around the world and within himself, Tim felt like he’d aged years. It was a little jarring to see that the world hadn’t changed around him, with him, that there were still places that remained the same, despite everything Tim had been through.

Stowing his bike, Red Robin quickly got to the rooftops, swinging his way towards the lead. They didn’t have much to go on, but some criminal elements in town were starting to get jumpy, and that usually meant something. There wasn’t any word on what it was, who it was, or when anything was supposed to be happening, but they wanted to keep on top of things. Red Robin was going to visit a few known gang hangouts and see what there was to observe.

The first two hours of Red Robin’s search yielded little. The low ranking gang members that were at the hangouts seemed slightly agitated, but not at anything in particular. The few higher ups that Red Robin saw were a little squirrelly, but there didn’t seem to be a reason, at least not any that anyone said out loud. In fact, the only reason the lower gangsters seemed stressed at all was because their bosses were stressed and taking it out on them. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t reaching the lowest ranks.

Red Robin spent some more time trying to listen in before deciding he was getting nowhere and needed to try something else. He swung across town, trying to remember the exact location. Gangs moved their offices all the time, so it wasn’t likely to be in the same spot, but they didn’t usually move their office far from the heart of their territory, nice and protected. It took a few minutes, but after scaling a few buildings and peeping in a few windows, Red Robin found something promising.

The office was deserted and the window was locked, but it was nothing Red Robin couldn’t work around. A couple of seconds and he was inside an unassuming office, the only evidence to suggest it belonged to a gangster was the familiar potted ficus Tim knew the owner carted along each time the office moved.

Rifling through the papers that he could find, Red Robin didn’t learn much. There was something about a shipment coming in, but it was unclear what the shipment was supposed to be. Drugs? Weapons? Money? At the very least Tim had an idea of what had everyone in a tizzy. Deciding he’d found enough for the night, Red Robin put everything back where he’d found it and then left the way he came, making sure to lock the window behind him.

Tim made his way up the side of the building and took a moment to breathe in the city air. Gotham stretched out in front of him, belching out noxious clouds of pollution and glittering with faded yellow lights. To many it was an ugly sight, but Tim had long ago come to love it. He drank in the sight, letting the humid air wash over him. Things had been so confusing lately, Tim didn’t know what was going on half the time. But this,  _ this _ made sense. Perched high above the city, watching everything go by. Tim felt like he could rise above anything, just like he could rise above the city he’d chosen to make his responsibility.

“Little late for a stroll, isn’t it?”

Tim jolted slightly and whirled around. His hand was halfway to his staff when he recognized the white mask. “Lynx,” he said, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Lynx stalked across the roof, emerging from the shadows. Whoever had trained her—whether or not it was actually the Hong Kong police—had taught her well, as she melted in and out of sight almost as well as some of the vigilante’s Red Robin knew. She came to stand a few feet from him, her eyes hidden under her white Lynx mask, but her lips smiling at him veers slightly.

Deciding to try his luck, Red Robin turned to face her fully. “What can you tell me about this ‘shipment’ that has everyone in such a state?” he asked.

“Not much,” Lynx said. “No one is really sure what it is, or when it’s coming. It’s mostly just smoke and rumours right now.”

“The Triads don’t spook over ‘rumours’, there has to be something else,” Red Robin said.

Lynx shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t know more about it than I do,” she said.

Tim raised an eyebrow under his cowl. “How much do you think I know?”

“I know that you didn’t figure out that it’s not  _ what _ the shipment is that has everyone so guarded, it’s  _ who  _ it’s for,” Lynx said, “Otherwise you and the rest of your Bats would be just as nervous.”

Red Robin waited a moment. “So are you going to  _ tell _ who the shipment’s for or am I going to have to guess and let you be dramatic?”

Tim couldn’t actually  _ see  _ Lynx roll her eyes, but he was sure she had. “Nothing is confirmed, but everyone I’m in contact with is quite sure that the shipment is for the Red Hood.”

Now  _ that _ made Tim pause. The last anyone heard of Red Hood, he’d left Gotham entirely and was palling around with Starfire and Arsenal. Why would there be a shipment coming into Gotham for him? It made no sense. Unless…

“The Red Hood is returning to Gotham,” Red Robin surmised.

“The last time  _ that _ happened, several gang leaders lost their heads,” Lynx said. “Understandably, those who still have them are worried about theirs.”

Red Robin hummed and mulled things over in his head. No one in the family had much to do with Jason lately. Though Bruce tried to keep a watch on him, he’d slipped through the cracks somehow and now no one was certain where he was. He could be anywhere on Earth, or several places  _ not _ on Earth. The last time any of them had gotten up close with Jason, he’d been pretty set on killing at least one of them. If he was coming back to Gotham, that most assuredly meant trouble.

“You Bats seemed to have a strange relationship with Red Hood, which was why I was surprised you didn’t know,” Lynx went on.

“We haven’t been in touch,” Red Robin said. He turned back to Lynx. “Thank you for the intel. I do appreciate it.”

Lynx smiled and reached up to tug off her mask. Her eyes were dark, almost black, and belied a kind of mischievousness. She stepped forward, breaching into Tim’s personal space as easily as she slid through shadows. “Don’t think of this as a freebie,” she said, voice dropping an octave. “I have my mission to think of as well, and I hope that you’ll be helpful when the time comes.”

She laid a hand on Tim’s chest, looking up into his mask through her eye lashes. Tim’s heart tripped in his chest. He could see her move and went along, meeting her lips with his. It was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but he’d had a lot of bad ideas over the years that had somehow worked out in the end. As she pressed herself against him, Tim put his hands on her waist to pull her closer, but he could help the strange feeling in his gut, like something was wrong.

_ Of course this feels wrong, _ Tim justified to himself,  _ she’s either a police officer on a mission or a gangster pretending to be a cop to throw me off. _

Eventually Lynx pulled away, her lips shiny and eyes bright. She grinned at him and stepped back, pulling back on her mask. “I’ll see you around, Red Robin,” she said, a slight purr to her voice, before melting into the shadows and disappearing.

Tim stared after where she’d been for a moment, trying to decipher his emotions. He’d enjoyed the kissing, it had felt nice, but there was still something that hadn’t felt right, something niggling at the back of him mind like an annoying mosquito he couldn’t see. He tried to tell himself that it was because of the oddness of their situation. They were on opposite sides—presuming that she wasn’t  _ actually _ an undercover cop—and he knew next to nothing about her. He’d been operating on a hunch and her word with her since coming back to Gotham, and it was only natural that he would have some doubts about kissing her.

Reassured, Tim fired his grapple and swung off. He had some valuable intel and it needed to get back to Batman and the others. Red Robin swung out over the city, heading back towards where he’d left his bike. He’d come a fair way, so it would take him a minute to get to it. As he swung, Tim challenged himself, seeing how long he could put off firing the grapple, waiting until the last possible moment before swinging back upwards.

At the top of a particularly high swing, Tim took a deep breath and let himself fall through the air. The street rushed up, the lights around him blurring as gravity pulled him faster and faster. Tim took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Tim’s eyes snapped open as he realized with a gasp. Twisting in mid air, he fired his grapple half-blind, hoping he hit something sturdy. There was a clank as the grapple bounced for a second then latched onto a window ledge. Tim yelped in pain as his arm wrenched, his shoulder coming out of the socket with a sickening ‘pop’ from the speed and angle. Tim braced himself as he swung into the side of the building, his knee crashing through a window with a spray of glass. Gasping for breath, Tim held onto the grapple with a vice-like grip, carefully pressing the retract button and groaning in pain as it pulled his shoulder further. When Tim got to the window he wasted little time breaking it and scrambling through. It was some kind of office building, deserted at this time of night, for which Tim was extremely grateful for. Gracelessly tumbling to the floor, Tim scrambled back from the window, heart pounding in his chest and wind ringing in his ears. His shoulder throbbed and he tried to piece together what had just happened.

He’d nearly… he’d  _ almost _ —

Shuddering, Tim leaned over and vomited onto the floor, coughing and shaking. The world seemed to spin around him like he was still falling, plummeting towards the earth with nothing to stop him. He gasped for breath, his chest seizing like he was about to have a heart attack. Whimpering, Tim slumped over onto the floor, shivering and convulsing until it all went black.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Tim was awoken by his comm beeping in his ear. Someone was trying to talk to him. Pushing himself up to sit, Tim hastily clicked it on.

“—obin, report!”

“I’m here,” Tim rasped, trying not to gag on the taste in his mouth.

The sigh of relief on the other end was palpable, but then Batman was all business. “You didn’t report in,” he said.

“We were worried  _ sick _ Tim,” Dick’s voice cut in, and Tim hadn’t even realized he was on the line. “What happened?”

Tim took a few steadying breaths. “I’m here,” he repeated. “My grapple jammed and I dislocated my shoulder. Crawled in through a window and passed out from the pain.”

“Are you okay?” Dick asked. “Do you need us to come get you?”

The thought of his family seeing him like this made Tim want to throw up again. “No, I’ll be alright,” he said. “I just need to pop the shoulder back in. I’ll be back soon.”

“Are you certain?” Bruce asked.

Tim grabbed the edge of a desk and hauled himself up with a groan. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Bruce said. “We’ll be expecting you back at the Cave soon.”

“I won’t be long,” Tim promised, bracing himself against the wall and counting down in his head. When he got to ‘one’ he shoved against it and popped his shoulder back in with a wet pop and yelped.

“Tim?” Dick asked, worry dripping from his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

_ No, no I’m not _ , Tim thought. “Yeah, just popping my shoulder back in,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay,” Dick said, clearly unhappy. “Get home safe.”

“I will,” Tim promised. He quickly signed off, not knowing how much longer he could pretend to sound normal.

Carefully rotating his shoulder to make sure it was in place, Tim walked over to the window, his boots crunching the glass underfoot. Peering out the window, Tim counted several stories down to street level. A few more seconds and he would have hit near terminal velocity. The impact would have killed him instantly, and they would have to scrape him up with a shovel.

He could have died, he'd  _ wanted _ to die. He could see it clearly in his head now, how much he wanted it all to be over. How much he wanted it to just  _ stop _ . He felt like he wasn’t in control of his life, like he was going through the motions of life, piloting his body but not actually existing in it. He did things because he thought he  _ should _ do them, not because he wanted to. Nothing felt right, nothing was okay.

“I’m not fine,” Tim whispered to himself. With a shuddering sob, Tim began to cry, his tears gathering under his cowl and blurring his eyes until he could see nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't edit this chapter as much as I should have, but I'm running short on time. Might come back and fix it up later.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to get this one done pretty fast so far as my usual writing schedule goes, so here you go. I tried to edit this one a little more, but it's late and I've been sick all weekend. Hope you like it!
> 
> Trigger warning for suicide ideation.

After pulling himself together enough to get back to his motorcycle, Tim headed back to the Cave to let everyone know what he’d found. In the commotion of everyone finding out that Jason was apparently heading back to Gotham, they missed Tim slipping out and booking it back to the Nest. With the way Bruce was huffing and stomping around, Tim figured he wouldn’t think to ask Tim about his ‘malfunctioning grapple’ for at least a week.

Tim took the roads slowly, with a lot more caution than he’d had on the drive up. It took him nearly an hour to get home as he avoided the main streets, bloated as they were with early morning traffic. When he finally got back to the Nest he put away his cycle and stripped out of the uniform, carefully putting it back in its place. Tim used the decontaminating shower in the Nest rather than go upstairs to his bathroom, not wanting to tempt himself with his kit he’d stashed under the sink.

He washed himself robotically, hardly noticing what he was doing but fighting hard to keep himself in the present. He felt like he was remote controlling his own body, moving it but not physically inside of it. He carefully counted out his medications; antibiotics for his spleen, a couple of vitamins supplements to make sure, and some ibuprofen for his aches and pains. Tim made sure to count the pills twice, making sure he had no more or less of each than he needed before swallowing them down with some water. He completely avoided the sleeping pills he had stashed away for nights when he  _ needed _ sleep but just couldn’t rest.

Tim slowly moved himself up to his room. He mechanically dressed himself in pyjamas, each movement deliberate and careful. His mouth still felt disgusting from throwing up, but once again he didn’t dare go into the bathroom, lest things get out of hand. Taking deep, steady breaths, Tim crawled into bed and pulled the covers over himself. He didn't know if he was going to get to sleep at all, but all he wanted to do was hide from the world for a while.

For the next few hours, Tim drifted in and out of consciousness. He didn't feel like he was quite asleep, but he couldn't seem to get himself to be awake either. It felt like he was floating on choppy waters, where every wave could send him under but he was helpless to try and swim, all he could do was float listlessly and hope he didn't get pulled under or get thrown onto the rocks.

Tim tossed and turned. He felt feverish, ill, out of sync with himself. Dimly he was aware of time passing, the distant sound of his phone ringing. Once he thought he might have heard the doorbell ring, but his mind was nothing but a shamble of half-sensical dream strung together by that point. All Tim could do was thrash on his bed, gasping and gulping for air.

By the time Tim gathered enough pieces of himself to string together into something resembling consciousness, it was dark out again. For a while Tim just lay there on his bed, taking deep, shuddering breaths, feeling the bone-deep weariness in each limb. He felt disgusting, his pyjamas and sheets soaked with sweat, his mouth now fermented with the smell of his sick. His muscles felt like wet sand, weak and heavy; when Tim tried to lift himself from the bed, he could hardly manage it for the trembling. Tim’s head felt foggy, unfocused and painfully numb.

Tim carefully pulled himself out of bed, shivering as his soaked pyjamas clung to his skin. He pulled his duvet around himself like a cloak as he slowly made his way out of the stale air of his bedroom. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, grumbling when he realized the battery was dead. He made his way to the kitchen, plugging his phone into the charger and puttering around for some water. When he felt well enough to risk venturing into the bathroom, he went to shower and brush his teeth.

By the time Tim had cleaned up and was feeling a little more like a human being, his phone was charged enough for him to check his notifications. Tim’s heart leapt into his throat when he noticed how many texts and calls he’d missed. For one horrifying second he thought something must have happened while he was asleep, someone must have been hurt, or  _ worse _ . It was only as Tim scrambled to unlock his phone that he took note of the date.

Three days. He’d been asleep for  _ three whole days _ .

Tim had to steady himself against the counter. He hadn’t even realized he’d been asleep for so long. It had felt like only a handful of hours since he’d crawled into bed. No wonder he felt so awful and disgusting. Everyone was probably worried sick.

Stomach churning, Tim started going through his phone. Stephanie, Dick, Bruce, even  _ Alfred _ had been calling and texting. His email inbox was also flooded with at first annoyed and then concerned emails from Tam, as well as all of the usual spam. There were a dozen and a half voicemails waiting for him, mostly from Dick and Steph. Clenching his phone in a white-knuckle grip, Tim opened his voicemail and started listening.

_ “Hey Tim, it’s Dick, I missed you after patrol. Look I… I know we haven’t been getting along great right now, but I really  _ **_do_ ** _ want to talk to you. You're mad at me, I messed up, but we’re never going to make it better if we keep being nasty at each other. Let’s meet up and talk about it, okay? Call me.” _

_ “Hi Tim, it’s me.” _ Steph’s voice came through.  _ “You ran out of the Cave pretty quick last night, you feeling okay?” _ There was a pause in the message.  _ “We should get together soon or something. Get coffee, catch up. It’s been so long. Call me back!” _

_ “Tim, you didn't show up to work today, is everything alright? Call me please.” _ Bruce’s messages were always short and to the point.

_ “Hey Tim it’s me again. Are you okay? No one has heard from you since last patrol. You don’t have to call me if you’re still mad, but please call someone.” _

_ “Tim? It’s Steph. Are you okay? You haven’t been answering my texts.” _

_ “Tim, everyone’s worried about you. Please call someone back.” _

_ “Master Tim, I understand things have been… strained at the Manor for you for some time now, but we are all quite worried, and I for one would appreciate knowing that you are alright. Please send us some sort of indication.” _

_ “Tim, you need to call us back as soon as possible.” _

_ “Tim, I went by your place but you didn't answer. I’m barely stopping Bruce from breaking in at this point. Are you okay? No one has heard anything. Please call me back. I know I screwed up, but… you're still my little brother. I can’t—” _ there was a choking noise in the recording.  _ “Please, just let us know you're okay.” _

Tim tried to keep his breathing steady, even though he felt like crawling under the table and never getting out. He’d been asleep for  _ three days _ , causing everyone to worry about him. Doubtlessly they had also been doing their work—picking up his patrols when he didn't show up—on top of their day jobs as well. They’d been fretting about him for three days while he’d lain in bed, doing nothing. How could Tim have done this to them?

Tim felt like he was about to be sick and leaned over the sink, breathing shallowly. His stomach cramped and twisted, but he only gagged up some saliva; there was nothing in his system for him to throw up. Tim groaned and rested his head on the counter, the messages still playing, all some rendition of someone trying to get him to call them back, let them know that he was okay. The voices of the people who loved him washed over him, burning like alcohol on his skin.

_ “Hey Tim.” _ Tim’s eyes snapped open when he recognized Kon’s voice.  _ “I was just calling to try and catch up. We haven’t really talked in a while.” _ There was a long pause, then a sigh.  _ “Look Tim, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I just wanted to let you know that it’s okay. I’m here for you, and I’ll always be your friend no matter what. What happened in Paris… if you really don't want to talk about it, then I won’t ask, but I  _ **_do_ ** _ want my friend back. I’m sorry if I got pushy or nosy, I just… you’re important to me Tim. I don't want to lose you… Anyway, talk soon.” _

Tim couldn't breathe. He felt like his chest was on fire, like all the oxygen in the room was burning up before he could process it. For one paranoid moment Tim thought the walls were starting to shrink around him. Gasping, Tim shoved himself away from the counter and dashed for the stairs. He needed to get out, he needed to breathe.

A few moments later Tim found himself on the roof, gulping down lungfuls of putrid city air. It had just rained recently and the city stank of wet garbage and human refuse. The lights swirled around him, neon and fluorescent blurring together in a nauseous rainbow of colour. Tim closed his eyes and put his hands on his knees, taking deep breaths and trying not to throw up.

After a few minutes, Tim managed to get a hold on himself again and peeled his eyes open. The city hadn’t changed, it still stank and was both too bright and too dark at the same time, but Tim could at least look at it without his head threatening to explode. Forcing his breathing to be steady, Tim walked to the edge of the roof to look over the edge.

It was late enough that there was no one out on the streets. The yellow glow of the street lights lit the sidewalks, showing the cracks in the concrete and the litter scattered everywhere. Tim thought about the other night, when he’d nearly fallen to his death. From this height, the fall most likely wouldn't kill him unless he angled himself properly. He’d have to deliberately land on his head. Other than that, he’d only injure himself.

Tim shook his head, hating that he was even contemplating this. He needed to go back down to his kitchen and call Bruce back, let everyone know he was okay, that he was ready to pull his weight and apologize for making everyone worry. Tim told himself to turn around and head back inside, but he stayed where he was, just the idea of talking to anyone right exhausting him to the point where he wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for another three days.

Tim wasn’t sure how long he’d stayed up on the roof when a noise from behind him made him jump. He whirled around, scanning the shadows for any movement. For a second he thought he might be going paranoid when he finally noticed the glint of red metal tucked in a dark shadow. Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest as Red Hood stalked into the light.

Tim swore internally. He had nothing on him he could use as a weapon and he was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. Red Hood was in full gear, and Tim could pick out at least three weapons on him. He was so screwed. He braced himself to try and get around Jason and into the Nest.

However, Red Hood didn’t move. He just stood there, watching Tim silently. It was impossible to guess at what he was thinking with the red helmet over his head, covering his face, but his body didn’t seem poised to attack. He was just  _ staring _ at him. Tim’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Jason to do something.

Finally Tim couldn’t stand it any more. “Are you going to do something other than stare at me the whole night?” he asked, hoping to goad Red Hood into moving so he could bolt for the door.

Jason didn't move aside to tilt his head slightly. “Why don't you come away from that ledge?” he said, his voice steady and calm. It was the kind of voice they were all trained to use to talk down people who were potentially a danger to themselves.

The hairs on Tim’s neck stood on end. “Is this some kind of trick?” he asked. There was no way Jason was actually concerned about him.

Red Hood shook his head and put up his hands. “No trick, promise.”

“And why should I trust you?” Tim growled and took a step back, toward the edge. The fall wouldn't kill him if he landed right.

Jason sighed and shook his head. “Screw this,” he growled and reached for something in his jacket.

Tim swore and turned to leap onto the border of the roof, aiming to scale down the side and make a break for it. The sudden movement made his head swirl, no food or water after a three day fever coma catching up to him at the worst possible moment. Tim got himself steady and prepared to jump down to the next level when a grapple rope flung out around him, catching him around his chest and midsection and binding him tightly. Tim swore and started to struggle before he was yanked back hard. He landed on his ass hard and kicked and flailed as Jason dragged him toward him.

A gloved hand landed on Tim shoulder and he thought,  _ this is it, he’s going to kill me _ . He shut his eyes and braced himself for hands closing around his throat, a knife in his back, a bullet in his skull.  _ Just get it over with _ , Tim thought.

No bullet or knife came, and Jason’s hands only took a length of rope and wrapped it around his wrists, tight enough that it would take him some time to wiggle free, but not enough to cut off his circulation. Once Tim was secure, Red Hood stood up and took a few paces back.

“There,” he said, coming around in front of Tim, “now I’m not worried you’re going to take a swan dive off the roof.”

Tim wiggled in his bonds. “What makes you think I was going to jump?”

Jason scoffed. “Please brat, I know a jumper when I see one. You looked like you were three seconds from taking the shortcut to ground level.”

Tim wondered about that. He’d seen jumpers before, talked a couple down himself, he knew the ‘look’, the haunted, dead look in their eyes. Was that what he looked like?

“Why do you even care?” Tim asked, changing the subject. “Wouldn’t it just serve your purposes if I jumped? One less of us to kill?”

Jason huffed and crossed his arms. “Maybe I don’t want anyone blaming me when I didn't actually  _ do _ anything,” he said. There was a pause, enough for Tim to consider trying to wiggle out and make a break for it, then Jason sighed. He reached up and tugged his helmet off, tucking it under his arm. He reached into his jacket and Tim tensed; Jason noticed and raised an eyebrow as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

“I’m not here to kill you,” he said, tapping a cigarette out of the pack and stashing the rest back in his coat. Jason overturned a bucket that had been left outside and sat down on it, dropping the helmet so he could fish his lighter out of his pocket. “I was just in the neighbourhood and saw you looking like you were going to take a dive.”

“And you decided  _ you _ needed to intervene?” Tim asked, subtly trying to get his wrists free.

Jason shrugged and lit his cigarette up. “Someone needed to,” he said.

Tim watched Jason for a while. He seemed…  _ different _ than the last time Tim had seen him. Calmer perhaps? Certainly not as ready to start putting bullets in Tim as he used to be.

“Why are you back in Gotham?” Tim asked, figuring he might as well try and get some information while he was trussed up.

Jason blew out a plume of smoke. “Putting some things into perspective,” he answered. “Lot’s changed since the last time I was here.”

“You mean when you went on a killing spree and incited a gang war?” Tim asked, unable to keep his voice from being dry and sarcastic.

Jason didn’t react to Tim’s barb at first. “Yeah,” he said quietly. Was that  _ regret _ in his voice?

Tim wasn't sure what to do. Jason wasn't the way he used to be, the way Tim had come to expect him to be. Of course it could all be an act, meant to lure Tim into a false sense of security, but it didn’t feel that way. This Jason felt almost stable in comparison to what he was before.

A few moments passed in silence, Jason puffing on his cigarette and Tim trying to think of something to say. Any sort of interrogation he could come up with seemed stuck in his chest somewhere. He had so much that he wanted to ask, but it all seemed so trivial all of a sudden.

“I wasn't going to jump,” Tim said eventually, the words bubbling up before he could stop them.

“Mm-hm, bet you didn't cut up your legs on purpose either,” Jason said, gesturing to Tim’s calves, where his scars were clear as day. “Someone tortured you over several months? Just random scars that all  _ just so happen _ to look self inflicted? Some kind of messed up training the boss put you through?”

Tim flushed at being called out so thoroughly. “What do you even know about it?” he huffed.

“I know when something is self inflicted,” Jason said, “trust me.”

Tim looked up at Jason, his curiosity getting the better of him. “How?” he asked

Jason watched Tim for a moment, eyes assessing even through the red domino mask he wore. Leaving the cigarette in his mouth, Jason carefully pulled off his chest armor and pulled up his shirt. Tim sucked in a breath as he saw the large Y-shaped scar marring Jason’s chest. After a moment he noticed the other scars, little cuts and nicks and burns all along the scar, too well placed to be anything but deliberate.

“If I was bleeding, I was alive,” Jason said by way of explanation, quickly pulling his shirt down and strapping his body armor back in place. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke with a long sigh.

Tim watched Jason, stared into his face, tried to see what was different, what had changed. “How did you stop?” he asked.

“Talking mostly,” Jason said, leaning back to look up at the sky, at the paltry few stars dotting the inky night. “Let some people in, let go of some shit, and just… talking.” He tapped the ash from the end of his cigarette. “Lot’s of talking.”

Tim thought about all of the messages on his phone. Who had he talked to in the last while, talked about anything really important. He used to go to Dick when he felt down, but now there wasn’t anyone. All the people in his life, he couldn’t trust any of them anymore, not with anything like what he was feeling. Too much hurt, too much betrayal, too much  _ too much _ . Tim’s chest constricted and his breaths started to come out shallow. Tim buried his face in his knees and forced his breathing to steady out.

“Why are you here Jason?” Tim asked, voice barely audible. “Why are you in Gotham? Why are you  _ here _ ?”

Jason clicked his teeth and stubbed out his finished cigarette. “Told you, getting some perspective,” he said, standing up. He picked up his helmet and put it back on, then started walking to the edge of the roof. “If you tell anyone about this, I really will slit your throat,” he said, then fired a grapple and swung off.

Tim stared after him for a while, wondering what had just happened. Had Jason just been  _ nice _ to him? Sort of, Tim thought, finally wiggling his wrists free of the rope. He rubbed the feeling back into his hands and started unwinding the rest of the rope from his chest, trying to figure it out. Jason was crazy, murderous, and calculated. Could this be some kind of plot? That didn't make any sense though; why make a fuss about getting Tim away from the ledge? Why not let him fall and call it a night?

“I wasn't going to jump,” Tim said to himself, stalking over to the edge again. He looked off towards where Jason had swung, trying to calculate in his head where he was going. He was still running on practically empty, and the strings of hypotheses and theories tangled and snapped as he tried to align them. Shaking his head, he looked out over the city, trying to clear his head.

The old theatre that Tim had converted into his Nest wasn’t that tall, so the view wasn't as good as it might be from somewhere like Wayne Tower, but the rest of the area wasn't much taller. The theatre sat at the entrance to Park Row, overlooking Crime Alley and the rest of the Narrows. Twisted, cluttered streets choked with people going about their daily lives, trying to survive in a city that at times seemed like it wanted to destroy every living thing in its borders. Tim was just another body among them, another person trying to scrape together some semblance of a life together from all the broken pieces he’d been given.

“I’m not okay,” Tim repeated to himself. He’d nearly splattered himself all over the sidewalk last night— _ three _ nights ago. He’d been cutting his work extremely close, driving and swinging recklessly, letting thugs get close enough as to almost clip him, waiting until the last possible moment to strike. It was so textbook that Tim wondered why he hadn’t caught it, why no one else had caught it.

With a sigh, Tim stepped away from the ledge and turned to go back inside. His head was starting to pound and the humidity of the night wasn't doing him many favours. He still needed to eat and answer his messages, so he headed down to the kitchen to get something to eat.

Tim’s phone buzzed on the counter as he was polishing off his third protein bar. He watched it vibrate itself across the counter, Dick’s name flashing across the screen.

_ Talking _ Jason had said.

Tim reached for his phone just as it was about to click to voicemail. He pressed it to his ear, but his voice stuck in his throat.

_ “Tim?” _ Dick’s voice came through the line.  _ “Hello? Tim are you there?” _

“I’m here,” Tim croaked out, the words tearing at his throat like razor wire.

_ “Tim! Oh my God!” _ Dick exclaimed.  _ “We were worried sick about you! What happened?” _

“I—”  _ nearly killed myself because my life is a mess and I  _ **_hate_ ** _ myself so much it physically hurts _ , “got sick,” he answered. “Must have caught something on patrol. I came home and passed out. I’ve been in a fever coma for like three days.”

_ “Shit Tim, we thought something  _ **_happened_ ** _ ,” _ Dick said, and Tim could picture him pacing around.  _ “I called and texted. I tried to stop by your place to check on you, but you didn’t answer the door. Your systems say you were hadn’t left the Nest, but we were getting worried Tim.” _

“I know, I got your messages,” Tim said, wandering into his living room and flopping down onto the couch. His shoulder throbbed, reminding him that he’d dislocated it.

_ “You  _ **_scared_ ** _ us Tim,” _ Dick said.  _ “I thought something might have happened to you.” _

“I’m sorry,” Tim said. “I didn’t even realize it’d been three days until I woke up like two hours ago.”

Dick puffed out a sigh on the other end.  _ “Geez, you okay?” _ he asked.

_ No _ , Tim thought,  _ I’m not okay _ . “I was thinking I might come back to the Manor for a bit. Just in case,” he said. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was a start, wasn’t it?

_ “That’s probably a good idea,” _ Dick said.  _ “With Jason on the loose in the city, I don't like the idea of you being out there alone.” _

Tim bristled just a touch. “I can take care of myself you know.”

_ “I know, I know,” _ Dick said,  _ “but Jason… he’s not like the other kooks we go up against.” _

“Yeah,” Tim said, thinking back to the rooftop. Just what was Jason up to?

_ “If you’re coming home, you should probably get to it soon,” _ Dick said.  _ “Bruce says there’s reason to believe that Jason might already be in the city. I don’t want you getting caught alone with Jason. He could really hurt you.” _

“I’ll be over soon, just have to pack some stuff,” Tim said, hauling himself off of his couch. He had clothes and such at the Manor, so he’d just need his laptop and a couple things.

_ “Want me to come help you pack?” _ Dick offered.

“No, I should be fine, it’s just a couple of things,” Tim said. “I should be there in an hour or two.”

_ “Alright,” _ Dick said. There was a pause on the line and Tim considered saying his goodbyes.  _ “Tim? Did you get my message?” _

“I got all of your messages, be more specific,” Tim said, trying to smirk, to have it come out as a tease, but it felt flat and limp.

_ “The message about having a talk,” _ Dick clarified.  _ “I just… I know you're mad Tim, I  _ **_get_ ** _ that, you have every right to be. I just think we should try and  _ **_talk_ ** _ about it, before it sits too long.” _

_ Talking _ Jason had said,  _ lots of talking _ . “Yeah, probably,” he said. He felt a wave of exhaustion creep over him and rubbed his eyes. “Maybe when I’m feeling better.”

_ “Of course, don't worry about that,” _ Dick said.  _ “You focus on feeling better first. We’ll talk when you’re feeling well enough.” _

“Thanks Dick,” Tim said, and he felt the vestiges of the old comfort he used to feel when he talked to Dick, back when things were better. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it, having Dick in his life, someone he could talk to about everything, about how crazy life was.

_ He could do this _ , Tim thought. He could figure it out, get his head back on straight, get things back to normal. He just had to get some stuff out of his system and it could all go back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's Jason up to? Is Tim actually going to get better? What's Kon doing right now? Who knows? (It's me, I know)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's like 3am as I post this but I got it done so here you go. No triggers this chapter but it's still not exactly 'happy' so have that I guess.

Kon looked up at the high rise apartment building where Clark and Lois lived. He’d promised he’d come in through the front door instead of flying in, to keep things as normal as possible. With a deep breath, Kon stalked inside and headed for the elevators, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.

When Clark and Kon had talked about being more involved in each other’s lives, they’d come to the agreement that Kon needed to spend more time with Clark in  _ his _ life, not just have Clark show up at the farm here and there. So they’d come up with the idea of Kon spending weekends in Metropolis at Clark’s apartment.

Kon pushed the button for the elevator and waited, shifting his weight on his feet. This was the first weekend he was spending with Lois and Clark, and he couldn't help but feel nervous, even though he had no reason to be. He’d been to Lois and Clark’s place before a few times, mostly to find Superman for something, but he’d never actually stayed over for any length of time. Now he was going to stay for the whole weekend. For some reason it felt daunting.

The elevator arrived with a ding and Kon stepped on, pressing the button for Clark’s floor. There really was no reason for him to be this nervous. He knew them both well, and they were all trying to make the effort to do this right.

“Just dinner,” Kon told himself, “dinner with your clone-dad and his wife. Nothing to get worked up about.”

Kon stepped off the elevator and made his way down the hall to apartment 1938, already hearing Clark and Lois’s voices as they talked. They were in the kitchen, if Kon guessed correctly, something sizzling on the stove. Kon could see why Clark wanted to keep the Super stuff away from it, this little pocket of domesticity tucked away where it was nice and safe. In a few seconds, Kon would join the little pocket, bringing with him all of his weirdness. Hey it’s me, your half-clone whom shares the other half with your greatest nemesis, here for dinner! Can someone pass the potatoes?

“This was a stupid idea,” Kon grumbled to himself, turning to head back to the elevator. He’d barely made it a step before he stopped. Isn’t the what he’d wanted, to be a part of Superman’s life in more than just a genetic sense? To have someone other than Lex Luthor treat him like a son, like family? Now he was just running, rejecting the very real chance he might have to actually  _ be _ part of a family? Kon’s stomach twisted and he stood there in the hallway, torn between going forward or moving back.

“Conner?” came a voice. Kon turned to see Clark poking his head out of the door. He smiled at Kon and pushed his glasses up his nose, as though he’d put them on in a rush. “I thought I heard someone in the hall. Did you get lost?”

Kon cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah,” he said, “I got all turned around I guess. Tried to retrace my steps.”

If Clark didn't buy that for a second, he didn't let on that he did. He just smiled at Kon and gestured for him to come inside. “Dinner’s almost ready, you can help me set the table.”

Kon nodded and turned to walk inside Clark’s apartment, is heart still tripping slightly. The inside of the apartment was normal.  _ Aggressively _ normal. There wasn't anything in the apartment that Kon could see that indicated any kind of double life on Clark’s part. Even with a quick scan of his x-ray vision, Kon couldn’t pick anything out aside from Superman’s suit stuffed into the very back of the closet, crumpled up like a bad memory. Kon tried not to lt himself feel out of place.

Lois poked her head out of the kitchen. “Hey kiddo,” she said, smiling widely, “come right in, I’ve almost got this finished.”

“I can take your bag,” Clark offered, holding out his hand for Kon’s backpack. “We don't really have an extra room, but we put a cot in our office. Is that okay?”

Kon handed over his backpack. “Yeah, should be fine,” he said. “It’s only for a weekend, right?”

Clark smiled. “Of course. I was thinking of getting a pull out couch for you. Something a little more permanent.”

Kon tried to be pleased by that, but there was something niggling at the back of his mind that refused to be satisfied. “Sounds great,” he said, ignoring the feeling.

With another smile, Clark turned and took Kon’s backpack away. Kon kicked off his shoes and finally stepped further inside. “Nice place,” he said to no one in particular. “Must be expensive.”

“Not really,” Lois said, still puttering around the kitchen, which Kon could see clearly from the living room (it was one of those setups that had kind of a half wall between the living room and the kitchen). “Metropolis has a decent set of property laws that keep the rents from going too high. It’s not  _ cheap _ , but it’s not as bad as you might think.”

“Lois did a really good article on the subject, if you want to know more on the subject,” Clark said, coming back to the living room from where he’d stashed Kon’s backpack. “I’m sure I can dig out a copy if you like.”

“Clark, I don’t think he’s  _ that _ interested,” Lois admonished with a smile. “Now hurry up with the table. I’ve almost got this done.”

Kon helped Clark set the table and shortly they were sitting down to dinner. It was some kind of chicken stir fry, different from Ma’s country style cooking, but good nonetheless. They chatted over dinner, mostly about Clark and Lois’s work at the Daily Planet and the various articles and projects they were working on. Overall it was a nice dinner, and Kon was starting to relax. He could do this, he could be normal, he could fit into Clark’s life.

“So, we’ve talked all about us,” Lois said, “but you’ve hardly said a word about what you're up to.”

The mouthful of rice Kon was chewing on suddenly seemed to clump together in his mouth, making it impossible to talk. He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I’m not really doing anything interesting,” he said.

“Oh, I don't believe that,” Lois said, smiling. “Clark tells me you recently came out. That must have been exciting.”

“I guess,” Kon said with a shrug. “It’s actually been pretty boring. There isn’t much of a gay scene in Smallville.”

Lois laughed. “Just sitting around thinking of all the boys you’d like to kiss?”

For a second, Kon wondered what Tim was up to at the moment. “Something like that,” he said, trying for a shy smile.

Lois smiled brightly, pleased that she seemed to be getting him to open up about himself. “Well, Metropolis Pride was a few weeks ago, but it’ll be back around for next summer. We could always go together,” she suggested.

Kon felt himself returning the smile, more genuine this time. “Sounds nice,” he said.

“Speaking of, summer’s almost over,” Clark said. “Do you know what classes you're taking this year?”

Kon shrugged. “I haven’t registered yet.”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Really? The classes should be getting pretty full by now, you should get on that if you want to get the classes you want.”

Kon let out a long sigh. “Yeah I know, I’ve just been busy I guess. Stuff with the Titans mostly.”

It was the first time any of them had mentioned Super stuff that night. Kon waited to see how it would land.

“Yeah, that stuff can be pretty time consuming,” Clark agreed, “but you can’t let it be your whole life. You should start thinking about what you want to do as a career. Is there anything you were interested in?”

Kon shrugged. “Not really,” he said. “I was thinking I might take a year off after high school, try and figure that out.”

Clark frowned and seemed like he might say something for a second, then he sighed and relented. “I suppose a lot of people your age take gap years. Were you thinking of doing some travelling?”

“Eh, travelling kind of loses its excitement when you can literally fly anywhere on Earth at the speed of sound,” Kon pointed out. “I was thinking of staying on the farm for the most part, doing hero work, just try to—” Kon shrugged, “I don't know, figure it out I guess?”

Clark let out a hum. “I suppose that’s alright. I know I couldn’t wait to get off the farm when I was your age.”

“You couldn't wait to get off the farm when you were six?” Kon asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

Lois barked out a laugh and Clark’s cheeks coloured. “Right, sorry. I forgot,” he said.

For some reason, that irritated Kon. “It’s fine,” he said, slightly snappish. “I suppose you had other things on your mind when I was born.”

The mood in the room shifted slightly, the edges getting a little harder and the air getting a little tenser. “Right,” Clark said awkwardly, looking elsewhere in the room, anywhere that wasn't directly at Kon. “It was a pretty…  _ busy _ time for everyone I guess.”

Suddenly it occurred to Kon that Clark had been dead too. Not for as long, but he  _ had _ died, in a similar way that Kon had even; a big showdown between himself and some monster from some mysterious faraway place, dying to protect the people he loved.

Kon’s throat closed, all of the things he wanted to ask Clark damming up and getting caught somewhere at the top of his chest. Would Clark even appreciate the similarities? Would he be unnerved? Kon didn't want to upset the delicate balance they’d come to by dragging up old wounds. He coughed and tried to think of something else to talk about.

Finally Clark cleared his throat. “Well, it’s no use bringing up unpleasant pasts. Better to look toward the future.”

That odd niggling feeling came back to the back of Kon’s head. This time it was harder to shake off. “It wasn’t all bad,” he said sullenly, a spike of anger starting to heat his stomach. “I mean, I was born around then. Or did you forget about that too?”

The air seemed to shift, like one wrong move would give a static shock. “I didn’t forget,” Clark protested, “There was just a lot going on around that time. It was hard to take it in all at once.”

Kon knew he shouldn’t, but now that he’d opened the door, everything that he’d shoved into the closet seemed to want to come crashing out. “Sure, fine, but it never occurred to you at some point that maybe I needed some guidance? Someone to look after me? At  _ any _ point while I was traipsing around on a world tour did you think that being carted around like a show pony wasn’t good for me? That maybe I needed someone to step in and look out for me?”

Clark stiffened. “You went off on your own—”

“I was a child!” Kon shouted, suddenly standing up. “I was barely a few months old! I didn't know any better!

"And I wasn't ready!" Clark shouted back, finally losing his temper, jumping out of his chair to match Kon. "Did you think it was  _ easy  _ for me? To come back from the  _ dead  _ and suddenly have a teenaged  _ clone  _ of myself running around? I didn't know  _ what  _ to do about you!"

Kon's anger swelled, expanding in his gut like a bubble of hot lava. " _ Anything  _ would have been better than  _ nothing _ ! You basically ignored the fact that I existed! You didn't  _ want  _ me!"

"I never had a choice in the matter!" Clark shouted, waving an arm around. "I had my DNA  _ stolen  _ to make a clone of me!"

Kon felt like he'd been electrocuted. "You  _ had  _ a choice!" he shouted. "You could have taken me in and you  _ didn't _ ! You  _ never  _ wanted me around! You  _ hate  _ that I'm here, invading your stupid  _ normal  _ life with my weird clone existence!"

Deafening silence punctuated the air, Clark flinching back, unable to respond. Lois's eyes darted between them, trying to find some way to break them apart. Kon felt hot and achy all over, his hands clenched into fists and his whole body trembling. He felt so out of place in that moment, like an invasive species in an environment he was never meant to be in. He had to get out.

"This whole thing was a mistake," Kon said, hating that his voice cracked and his eyes were starting to sting with tears.

Still shaking but trying to keep it in check, Kon stormed away from the table and went for the balcony. As he took off into the sky, he swore he heard someone call his name, but he was already travelling so fast that he couldn't tell who it was.

Kon flew for what felt like hours, seething with anger. He didn't have any destination in mind, and was only mindful enough to avoid tall buildings and planes. He wished for some kind of monster or alien or robot, something big and mindless to take out his frustration on. In his head he replayed the whole fight over and over again, hating Clark, hating  _ himself  _ for being so quick to pick a fight.

Eventually Kon's anger started to fizzle out and he was just left with the sick feeling of shame in his stomach. Why couldn't he have just left it alone? Why couldn't he have tried harder to make it work? For all his bumbling it, Clark had seemed like he really wanted to try and make it work. Lois had been nothing but sweet to him all night. Now Kon had blown it all to bits.

Kon figured it was probably time to head back to the farm so he could wallow in self-pity and guilt for the rest of the night when he noticed where he was. Or rather, where he was headed. a familiar outcropping of rocks in the ocean heralded the nearness of a place Kon hadn't been to in what felt like years. Suddenly nostalgic, Kon put on a burst of speed and touched down in Waikiki Beach moments later.

The time difference between Metropolis and Hawaii was significant, and there was still plenty of daylight left, encouraging locals and tourists to still be out on the boardwalk. Kon slipped from his hiding spot where he'd touched down and took it all in. The smell of sea salt in the air and the bustle of people enjoying the last of the sunshine felt so familiar to Kon that for a moment he forgot his anger and shame and wondered if he could find that one stand that sold those little pineapple ice cream treats he'd never found anywhere else on the planet. He'd left Metropolis before they'd gotten to desert, and he was craving something sweet.

Thinking about Metropolis brought Kon right back to the whole scene at Clark's apartment, bringing with it all of the shame and anger and frustration. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started to wander aimlessly around the boardwalk.

He hadn't started the night wanting to pick a fight with Clark. He had actually been looking forward to trying to form a real relationship with Clark. He'd thought he'd been ready to leave aside all the baggage and make a fresh start, but as the night went on it felt like he was in a pressure cooker. It had just built up the more he pushed it down. Kon sighed and rubbed his eyes, wishing he could turn back time and fix the whole thing before it even happened.

_ If I'm going back in time anyway, might as well go all the way back and fix it from the beginning _ , Kon thought. If he could, he'd go back to right when he was 'born' and insist that Clark take him in. Of course, if he did that, Clark might resent him even more than he already did, or just refuse him outright. Just the thought of having Clark, Superman, refusing him outright made Kon's stomach hurt.

"I'm such an idiot," Kon grumbled to himself. No matter what he did, it would never change how Clark really felt about him.

As if the universe was trying to make up for Kon's shitass life, at that moment Kon noticed the ice cream stand he'd been wondering about, exactly the same as his memory had preserved it. The same sun-faded sign proudly advertised the homemade ice cream treats Kon had loved ever since he'd tried them. Glad that his wallet was in his pocket, Kon got in line to buy an ice cream, not noticing the person in line behind him aside from her curly blond hair.

"One pineapple please," Kon asked the teenager behind the counter. He handed over the money, accepted his frozen treat, and was about to step away when the person behind him spoke up.

"Superboy?" she asked, sounding surprised.

Kon whipped his head around, wondering how he'd been recognized by a random stranger when he took in who was speaking. "Roxy?" he asked, equally bewildered.

Roxy beamed, smiling brightly under her large sunglasses. Kon found himself grinning back at her and caught her when she jumped into his arms, squealing joyfully.

"Oh my God!" she cried, twining her arms around his neck hugging him closely. "I knew it was you when I heard your voice!"

"You scared the crap out of me!" Kon said, spinning her around in his arms. "I thought I blew my cover somehow!"

Roxy laughed. "I'd know you anywhere kid," she said. He put her down and she tapped on his glasses. "Stupid glasses or no."

Kon chuckled and took off the fake frames. "I've got a whole secret identity and everything," he said. "You want an ice cream? My treat?"

"Mango please," Roxy said, grinning toothily.

In short order they grabbed their treats and were walking arm in arm along the beach. All of Kon's earlier melancholy melted away as he walked with one of the first friends he'd ever had, catching up and chatting about their lives.

"Kansas?" Roxy asked incredulously. " _ Really _ ?"

"Really," Kon confirmed. "It's not so bad when you get used to it."

"Hm," Roxy huffed. "Not really the same as Hawaii though, is it?"

"Of course not," Kon said, devouring the last of his ice cream. "But that doesn't mean it's worse, or better even. Just different."

Roxy let out another considering hum. "I suppose so," she said, "I just never pictured you as a farm boy."

"I had a misspent youth," Kon said, flicking his stick up and vaporizing it with his laser vision. "It was finally time to settle down."

Roxy laughed and Kon couldn't help but smile. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed her without even realizing it.

"So what brings you back to Hawaii?" she asked after calming down. "Looking to be the hero of Hawaii again?"

Kon took Roxy's finished stick and vaporized it, trying to think of what to say. "No, I'm not looking to move back," he said. "Don't think it would work if I was anyway. Hawaii has its own hero now."

"Very true," Roxy said. There was a beat of silence. "So what is it?"

"What's what?" Kon asked as though he didn't know.

"What's the reason for coming back? Something going on or are you just visiting?" Roxy asked.

Kon sighed. "Nothing's going on," he said, "just... had a fight with Cl—with Superman. Stormed off in a huff and wound up here."

"Oof," Roxy said. "Yeah I know how those fights go down. Got pretty mean and personal, didn't it?"

Kon thought of all the things he'd thrown in Clark's face. "Yeah," he said sullenly.

Roxy hummed lowly and leaned into his side. "Wanna talk about it or sit on the beach and brood for a bit?"

Kon smiled slightly. "Brood for a bit and then talk?" he suggested.

Roxy laughed and squeezed his arm. "Sounds like a plan. Let's find a spot."

They wandered down the beach and found a semi-secluded spot away from the other beach goers. Kon stared out at the water and took deep breaths, taking in the world around him. The smell of the ocean and the slight sting of salt water blowing into his face. The sun-warmed sand gleamed gold in the sun, perfectly complimenting the brilliant blue of the ocean that crashed into it at the waterline. Roxy was a warm and solid presence at his side, perfectly content to wait for him to get his shit together. Kon sighed and let the tension flow out of his body, into the sand and out to sea. He remembered spending every day out here on the beaches of Honolulu, barely a care in the world. Everything seemed so simple then. He wondered when things got so complicated.

Eventually Kon told Roxy what had happened, making sure to leave out the details that would point to Superman's secret identity. As he talked he felt the flare of anger return momentarily, then the shame bubble up just as fierce. He realized as he retold the whole ordeal that he'd really been the one to start it all, and if he'd just kept his mouth shut he could be enjoying pie with Lois and Clark right now and not sulking on a beach on the other side of the country.

"I ruined it," Kon groaned. "My one chance to actually have Superman pay attention to me other than to give me lectures and I blew it."

"Maybe," Roxy said, ignoring Kon's deadpan look, "but I'd bet you only expedited the inevitable."

"Oh?" Kon asked, curious about her knowing tone.

Roxy let out a long sigh. "Stuff like that, especially with parents, if you don't talk about it, it sits inside you until it all bubbles up and explodes out. No matter what you do, it always finds a way to make you miserable. Trust me, it's better that you got it out in the open now."

Kon stared at Roxy for a moment, remembering all the crap that Rex put her through. Kon had gotten his fair share of the short end of the stick from Rex, but Rex had been his agent for only a handful of years. Roxy had been dealing with her father her whole life.

"Is Rex still around?" Kon asked, then suddenly had the thought that he might have died and felt like a cad.

"He's somewhere," Roxy said with a shrug. "I hear from him once in a while, mostly on holidays. He sent me a dead succulent and a pack of smokes for my birthday this year."

"That's... nice?" Kon said, unsure of what to say.

"I quit two years ago," Roxy said. "Though I think the succulent was alive when he mailed it at least."

"At least," Kon said. "Last time I saw you, I thought you two were on good terms. What happened?"

"It's like I said," Roxy said, her fingers twitching like they always had when she wanted a cigarette, "it sits inside you until it just... explodes."

Kon felt a lump form in his stomach. "Sorry," he said, unsure of what else to say.

Roxy shrugged, then leaned back with a sigh. "At the very least Superman seems like he wants to make good on his offer. You can always try talking to him again, now that you've aired out the baggage."

"Did you try to air it out with Rex?" Kon asked before he could tell himself to shut up.

"I tried a few times, but he just wanted to pretend there wasn't any baggage," Roxy said, watching a wispy puff of cloud drift by. She closed her eyes like she was remembering something unpleasant but necessary. "I had to stop trying or I was going to go insane."

Guiltily, Kon felt like cutting Clark out sounded like a swell idea, though he kept that to himself. "I guess," he said, "but it's like, why  _ now  _ of all times? Where was this effort when I was born? When I needed him the most?"

“Dads are rarely what you need them to be,” Roxy said, opening her eyes to look up at Kon again. “You have to make the decision about what’s best for  _ you. _ ”

Kon considered that, turning the words over in his head. In the moment, dropping ties with Clark sounded like a good idea, but in the long run? He didn’t know, he wasn't sure. Clark had been back and forth on whether or not he wanted Kon in his life, but he really had seemed like he was genuinely trying this time. As much as Kon felt awful right now, as much as there was still so much between him and Clark, Kon still craved his approval.

“Guess I have to think about it,” Kon said.

"That's probably a good idea. Don't rush into anything," Roxy said.

Kon sighed and flopped back onto the sand. "In the mean time I'm stuck feeling like the supreme shithead for ruining dinner."

Roxy chuckled. "What's life without a few ruined dinners? I know I've ruined plenty of people's digestion."

Kon snorted. "I can believe that," he said. He nudged her with his elbow. "When did you get so smart anyway? Where's the hotheaded Rox I used to know?"

"She grew up while you were away playing big time superhero who was too busy to visit his old friends," Roxy said, flinging sand onto his chest. "I'm a grown up with a job and everything now."

"Speaking of!" Kon said, jolting up. "How did all work out, 'officer'?"

Roxy grinned. "Officer Leech of the Waikiki Beach Police Department, at your service," she said, waving an arm in a grand gesture.

"That's amazing Rox!" Kon said, pulling her into a hug. "I'm so happy for you! The world needs more good cops like you."

"Thanks Kid," Roxy said, hugging back tightly. "I worked really hard to get where I am. I'm set to move up to detective soon if I keep at it."

"Well, if you need me to bust a few bank robbers and let you take the collar, let me know," Kon teased, laughing when she punched him in the arm.

"There's enough corrupt cops out there without me trying to climb the ranks on someone else's back," she said. She smiled at him. "But thanks for offering."

They chatted for a while longer, catching up and talking about life as the sun went down. As the light faded and the night started to cool, Roxy finally stood.

"I should get going," she said. "I work early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I should be getting back too," Kon said.

“How far is it to Kansas?” Roxy asked.

“Couple hours,” Kon said, stretching and trying to calculate in his head.

“Mm-hm, and how far is it to Metropolis?” Roxy asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Kon stopped and looked at her. “Couple of hours more,” he said quietly.

Roxy smiled at him knowingly. “I guess you have plenty of time to decide,” she said. “Now give me a hug before you leave.”

Kon obliged, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Once again he was struck by how much he’d missed since the last time he’d seen her. She’d been his first real friend, the first person he’d ever felt like he could really  _ talk _ to. He suddenly didn't feel like leaving.

“You should visit,” Roxy said, “or call or something. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Kon said. “I promise I’ll come by soon.”

Roxy stepped away and pinched his cheek. “You better,” she teased.

Kon smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. “I will, don't worry,” he said. They exchanged a few more short goodbyes before Kon launched into the air, leaving Hawaii behind.

It would take Kon a handful of hours to get back home, even though he was flying pretty fast, but at least it gave him time to think. If he stopped in Kansas, he’d crawl back into his bed and get up to go back to work on the farm like nothing had happened. Ma might question him, but would probably leave him alone after a basic explanation, making her own assumptions or just asking Clark (or even Lois) about it. Kon would be back to where he started, with nothing having changed between him and Clark aside from another argument floating unacknowledged between them.

Kon sighed and put on a burst of speed.

Metropolis was oddly quiet at night. Unlike other cities, Metropolis seemed to actually sleep when the sun went down. It wasn't that there weren’t the usual night owls and party groups out and about during the nighttime hours, but they seemed subdued somehow, like even the drunks respected the fact that most people were trying to sleep. San Francisco had an understanding that certain areas were going to be noisy all hours of the day, and Kon didn’t think Gotham understood what a ‘quiet’ day was; Metropolis alone seemed to have this phenomenon. Kon tried to let the calm of the night wash over him, steady his heart that was threatening to beat out of his chest as he made his way over it.

It wasn't until Kon touched down on the balcony of Clark’s apartment that he realized that they might be asleep at this hour. Groaning and feeling like an idiot, Kon dithered on the balcony, debating on the merits of entering. Finally he sighed and pressed his hand to the balcony door, reaching out with his TTK to find the latch.

Surprisingly, it was unlocked, and Kon quietly entered. He figured he just crash on the couch for the night instead of trying to bang around the rest of the apartment to get ready for bed. When he made his way to the living room, he jolted when he noticed that it was occupied.

“Kon,” Lois said, looking up from whatever TV program she was watching. “You came back.” She didn't sound surprised or accusatory, only like she was stating facts.

Kon coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah sure, left my stuff here,” he tried, though it sounded weak as hell even to him.

Lois saw right through him. She scooted over on the couch and patted the space next to her. Kon crossed the room and sat down, finally getting a look at what she was watching. On the screen, Superman was helping people out of a collapsed building.

“What happened?” Kon asked, trying to determine where it might be and if he needed to help. The TV was muted, so all he had to go on was the text at the bottom of the screen.

“Minor earthquake in northern Japan,” Lois said. “Nothing serious, but an apartment complex collapsed and he rushed off to help. Should be wrapped up quick,” she said, though she wasn’t looking at the screen anymore, but at Kon.

“You stay up to watch him?” Kon asked, even though the answer seemed pretty obvious.

“Sometimes,” Lois said. “Usually for big things and when I know he’s in a mood.”

Kon felt his stomach twist. “Sorry,” he said, “about dinner.”

Lois watched him for a few more moments. “You weren’t wrong,” she said.

Kon looked up at her, surprised. “I wasn’t?”

“You weren’t exactly  _ right _ , but you weren’t wrong either,” Lois said. “Clark… he’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them. He can be a little insular and paranoid about letting people in,” she explained. “He likes to pretend everything is fine and just avoids talking about things.” Lois flashed him a wry grin. “You remind me of him in that way sometimes.”

Kon flushed. “Sorry.”

“Well, that’s what he should have been doing,” Lois said. “Teaching you to be better than he is. That’s what parents are supposed to do for their kids.

A shock of something rushed through Kon and he looked away. Carefully, Lois reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. Her touch was cool, soft and gentle. Kon had the urge to lean into it.

“I talked it over with Clark,” she said, “and we’ve decided to turn the office into a bedroom for you. We can work at the dining table or in the living room.”

Kon looked back at her, shocked. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, feeling guilty.

Lois smiled at him and raised her hand to stroke his cheek. “You need to have a permanent space here Kon. You deserve to feel like you belong in our lives.”

Kon’s chest swelled and—embarrassingly—he felt his eyes start to sting with wetness. He tried to force it back, but it hovered too close to the surface and he had to turn away. Lois kept her hand up and gently ran her fingers through his hair. It felt nice, comforting in a way Kon had felt only rarely in his life.

On the TV screen, it seemed as though Superman had gotten everyone out and was now standing around letting people thank him and trying to help as best he could with the clean up. Lois hummed and stood, stretching with a yawn.

“Superman saves the day again,” she said. She smiled tiredly down at Kon. “I’ll make crepes for breakfast, if you're sticking around.”

Kon nodded, still unable to find his voice. Lois switch off the TV and started to leave. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned and bent to kiss Kon on top of his head.

“Goodnight Kon,” she said softly, then turned to leave.

Kon stayed on the couch for a while, trying to parse through the days events. He felt like he had whiplash somehow, but he couldn't find it in himself to complain. After a few minutes he got up and went to get ready for bed.

“Onwards and upwards I guess,” Kon said, thinking about uncertain futures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rereading Superboy's series and I'm always struck by how much someone needs to take care of this child. He's a baby! A little baby! He should not be doing what he's doing alone! Someone look after this baby!
> 
> All of the wikis I found on Roxy have her relevance end in Hawaii though I'm sure she popped up later at Cadmus or something. I guess I'll find out as I keep reading.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm surprised how quickly this one came, especially since it was actually pretty difficult to write. It's not edited very well, so if you see anything weird I'm sorry lol.
> 
> Nothing unusually triggering in this chapter I guess.

Returning to the manor used up more energy than Tim had anticipated, and by the time he got there he was ready to crash again. He was having trouble keeping his thoughts together and paying attention to his surroundings was a chore. Somehow he managed not to wreck his car on the way back to the manor and parked it in the garage.

When Tim opened the door, he found Dick pacing in the little mud room before the main house, like he’d been waiting for Tim to show up. The way his head whipped around when Tim opened the door made Tim suspect he  _ had _ been waiting.

“Tim!” Dick exclaimed, startling Tim a little. In a second he was in front of Tim, pulling him into a tight hug. “I was so worried. Are you okay?”

Tim had to take a moment to understand what Dick was saying. His head was spinning just from coming up the stairs, so it took him a few seconds to absorb and process what was being said to him. "Dick," he croaked, his throat dry and raw. He coughed to try and dislodge his voice from his throat.

"Geez Tim, you sound awful," Dick said, pulling back to put a hand on Tim's forehead to feel his temperature. "You're not feverish at all. Do you feel nauseous?"

"I feel tired," Tim said, leaning into Dick's touch. "I'm just so tired."

Dick frowned in concern. "You said you slept for three days straight?" he asked. When Tim nodded his frown deepened. "Let's have Alfred get a look at you," he said, putting an arm around Tim and leading him away through the manor.

Normally Tim would resist this kind of coddling, having Dick lead him around like a little kid. Right now, Tim couldn't muster up the energy to make a fuss, and if he were honest with himself, he'd admit that it felt nice to have Dick's full attention. It really wasn't so long ago that he'd been Dick's 'little brother', the one he spent most of his energy fussing over, but it felt like it had been ages. Tim couldn't help but lean into it.

Dick brought Tim to the kitchen where Alfred was washing dishes. When Alfred looked up to see Tim, something in him seemed to relax, like he was relieved to see him alive and well.

"Master Tim," he said, drying his hands on a towel. "Master Dick told me you have been ill. Are you feeling better?"

"He doesn't feel warm, but his throat sounds awful and he says he's tired," Dick explained before Tim could gather his thoughts. "I figured you might be able to help."

"I shall certainly do my best, Master Dick," Alfred said, stepping forward to examine Tim. After a few cursory checks, Alfred directed Tim to sit down and went to get the medical kit under the sink. He popped a thermometer into Tim's mouth and went about taking his vitals, Dick hovering worriedly in the background. After a few minutes, Alfred clicked his tongue.

"Well Master Tim, whatever was making you ill most likely has since passed. You have no fever and your vitals are strong. I suspect your fatigue is your body simply having exhausted itself fighting off whatever it was that afflicted you," Alfred explained. He patted Tim's shoulder. "Nothing for it now but to rest and get your strength up."

Tim nodded, feeling awful for lying to them, but he felt unable to tell them the truth. How could he? It was bad enough he'd made them worry so much, he couldn't tell them what had really happened to him.

Alfred packed away the medical kit. "Are you feeling well enough to stomach something to eat, Mater Tim?" he asked.

"You should eat something Tim," Dick said, coming up behind Tim to rest his hand on his shoulder. "You look pale."

"I'm always pale," Tim pointed out, but there was no bite in it.

"Master Dick," Alfred reprimanded, "I do believe Master Tim is in charge enough of his own facilities to decide if he needs something to eat."

Dick's mouth twisted up like he wanted to argue, but knew better than to challenge Alfred. Tim light have laughed at him if it were funny. "I don't feel hungry," Tim admitted, "but I'll try if you have something small."

Alfred fixed Tim a small sandwich and gave him a glass of water. Dick seemed to have calmed down enough to sit down next to Tim at the kitchen island while he ate. Tim picked disinterestedly at his food, managing a few small bites at spaced out intervals. Dick kept up a chatter, trying to engage Tim, ask him questions and figure out what exactly had happened, but Tim was too tired and wrapped up in his own thoughts to participate much. Eventually Tim ate enough that Dick wouldn't make a fuss about it and excused himself to his room.

Dick followed him through the halls, still anxiously trying to make conversation. When Tim wobbled slightly on the stairs, Dick reach out to catch him.

"Are you sure you're okay? Should we go down to the Cave and get a scan done?" Dick asked.

Tim shook his head. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I just need to sleep."

Dick didn't look any less worried, but he helped Tim up the rest of the stairs to his bedroom. When they finally got to his room, Dick stalled at the door.

"I still want to talk," Dick said, "about... what happened."

The thought of trying to have  _ that  _ conversation right now made Tim's head swim. "I'm really tired Dick, " he said.

"I know," Dick said. "We can talk when you're feeling better, right?" he asked, smiling hopefully.

Tim gave a nod and returned the smile as best he could. "Sure," he said.

Dick relaxed a fraction and leaned down to hug Tim again. Tim tried to will his body to return it, but the best he could do was to lift and arm to place it on Dick's back. Everything took so much energy.

"I'll let you sleep," Dick said when he pulled away. "It must have been a hell of a fever."

Tim's shoulder throbbed, reminding him of how badly he'd wrenched it when he'd nearly let himself fall. "Something like that," he said. He gave Dick another wan smile before slipping into his room and closing the door.

Tim wasted little time changing into his pyjamas and falling into his bed. He'd only been awake for a handful of hours, but he already barely had the energy to crawl under the covers. As he yanked his blankets almost over his head, he hoped he would at least get a decent sleep this time.

No such luck; Tim tossed and turned for a few hours, unable to fall into anything heavier than a light doze. At the very least he didn't sleep as long, and managed to wake up a few hours later. At first Tim wasn't sure what had woken him and just stared out into the blackness of his room. It took him a moment to notice the presence leaning over his bed.

Bruce stood at Tim's bedside, leaning over him carefully, like he was trying to check on him without disturbing him. He was in his Batman body armor with the cowl pushed back and his gloves pulled off. He leaned back a little when he noticed that Tim was awake, like he was nervous about being caught.

"Bruce?" Tim slurred, still foggy from sleeping. "Did something happen?" Anxiety made his heart pound at the thought that something had gone wrong while he was sleeping.

"Nothing happened," Bruce said, keeping his voice low and soft, like he didn't want to disturb Tim. "I was just coming in to check on you."

Tim tried to relax, but his heart refused to stop pounding. He forced himself to sit up. "I'm fine," he said.

Bruce watched Tim in the darkness, eyes assessing. After a moment he sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to lay his hand against Tim's forehead. He frowned  slightly and switched to running his calloused fingers through Tim's hair.

"Get some sleep Tim," he said, standing up. "I'll let Tam and the others know that you're taking a break from work."

"I can work," Tim insisted, even though truthfully he'd like nothing more than to sleep for the next year.

" _ Rest  _ Tim," Bruce ordered. "Wayne Enterprises will still be there when you're better."

Tim wanted to protest more, but Bruce was already moving to the door, his footfalls somehow silent on the floor. Tim flopped back onto his bed the moment the door was closed and tried to fall back to sleep, fitful as it had been.

Some hours later, Tim finally managed to gather enough energy to drag himself out of bed. He still felt tired, but lying in bed wasn't really getting him anywhere, so he decided he might get up and try to do something that wasn't lying around waiting for the hours to go by.

It was midmorning and most of the house was asleep, populated as it was by night owls. Tim wandered through the halls, trying to think of something to do. He knew there was lots of work to be done, and failing that, he could always do some work to take care of himself like eat or shower, but everything seemed like too much or not enough. Any task Tim could think of seemed like it was too big for him or so insignificant that he couldn't be bothered.

Groaning, Tim was about to turn and head back to bed when he caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. For a half second his mind conjured up the image of Red Hood, stalking through the manor to try and kill everyone in their beds. When Tim turned to get a better look, his heart thudding in his chest, he noticed that the red in question was not metal, but hair. Kate Kane, Batwoman, was wandering the halls of the manor in the quiet hours of the morning.

Tim didn't know Kate that well, he'd never really known her other than having her be mentioned in passing by Bruce or Dick. She was Bruce's maternal cousin, and though they hadn't been close in years, Kate had independently decided to take up the mantel of Batwoman. Her methods were different from Bruce's, but Tim had to admire her effectiveness—and gumption, to go up against Batman and not back down.

Kate was also a lesbian, if Tim remembered correctly.

Tim could feel his heart start to trip, his anxiety spiking. He cursed internally and tried to get himself under control, hating that even something tangentially related could make him react like this.

Tangentially related to... what anyway? There was nothing about Kate that should make Tim react at all. He was just being stupid.

_ Talking _ , Jason had said,  _ lots of talking _ .

Just asking a few questions couldn't hurt, could it?

Tim felt ill just considering it, but something in him, some part of him that was desperate and fed up, made Tim walk forward towards Kate. She noticed him approaching and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, Tim right?" she asked, extending a hand to shake. "I don't think we've met yet. I'm Kate."

"Nice to meet you," Tim said, taking her hand. It was surprisingly strong and calloused, though he probably shouldn't have been shocked. She was ex-military if he recalled right.

Kate put her hands casually in her pockets when they broke apart. "Heard you were sick or something. Feeling better?" she asked.

The words were just behind Tim's teeth, ready to assure another person that he was fine and that there was no reason to worry about him. From deep in his stomach new words bubbled up, pushing the other ones out of the way as they tripped out of his mouth. "How did you know you were gay?" he asked.

Kate's eyebrows shot up. "Uh, what?"

Tim flushed, feeling stupid. "Sorry, I don't know why I—that was really stupid of me. Forget it."

He wanted to walk away, but Kate’s eyes pinned him to the spot. Her grey-blue eyes seemed to stare right through him, right down into the deepest parts of himself that he so desperately didn't want anyone to find. After a moment she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Meet me in the east sitting room in a couple of minutes,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before walking off down the hall at a determined pace. She stopped after a second and turned. “Do you take cream or sugar in your tea?” she asked.

Tim blinked. “Uh, just sugar is fine,” he said.

Kate nodded and then went off again. Tim watched her until she turned the corner, trying to figure out what was going on. He could just go back to bed—a part of him wanted to—but something in the way she’d looked at him, spoken to him, made his feet head toward the east sitting room. It was the smallest sitting room in the house (there were like, three of them)—aside from the personal space that had been set aside for Alfred—and was seldom used. Tim remembered when he first moved into the manor after his mother died and his father had been in a coma he used to come to this room to be alone when he didn't want to stay cooped up in his room anymore. It hadn’t been changed since then, aside from the one very hideous painting that had been switched out for something more tasteful. Tim sat down on the overstuffed couch and waited.

It took Kate a few minutes to reappear, holding two steaming mugs of presumably tea. “Sorry, I got lost,” she said, holding out one of the mugs to Tim. “This place is a fucking maze.”

“It’s hard to navigate when you aren’t used to it,” Tim said, accepting the tea. He took a sip and let the warmth seep through him.

Kate sat down on the other side of the couch and pulled her legs up under her so she could turn to look at Tim. Once again Tim felt pinned under her gaze, like a fly pinned under a magnifying glass. He took another sip of tea and looked to the corner of the room, wishing he could find the right words to say.

Eventually Kate took a deep breath. “So you want to know how I knew?” she asked.

Tim looked back up at her, but his voice was still caught in his chest, so he only nodded. Kate sighed and took a sip of her tea, quiet for a moment as she gathered her thoughts.

“It took a while,” she said, “but it really started when I was a kid.” Kate went on to explain her experience. All the signs she’d missed as a kid, her confusion and confliction and frustration with herself and others, finally culminating in her first relationship with a woman and the realization of what she was.

“Didn’t it scare you?” Tim asked after she explained how she’d been tossed out of the military for violating DADT.

“Not really,” Kate said. “It pissed me off more than anything.”

“But what about your family?” Tim insisted. “Weren’t you worried about what they would say?”

Kate shrugged. “Of my immediate family, there was really only my dad,” she said, “and I knew he would be fine with it.” She paused and swirled her tea around her mug. “I think he’d actually kind of figured it out by the time I told him anyway. I couldn't give less of a shit about what the rest of the family thought. If they had an issue with it, that was their problem, not mine.”

“What about your mom and your sister?” Tim asked before he could stop himself. Instead of apologising, he kept digging himself further into the hole. “Do you worry about what they might have thought?”

Kate’s hand clenched on her mug for a second, but then she got a far off look in her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said softly, “but I prefer to imagine that they would have been chill about it, like Dad is.”

Tim pressed his lips together, trying to imagine. His chest got so tight he felt like he couldn't breathe and he had to stop. “Did you ever have a boyfriend? Or date a guy?”

“Once or twice as a kid,” Kate said.

“Why?” Tim asked. “I mean, how could you date someone you weren’t attracted to?”

Kate considered that for a moment. "I'm not sure, societal pressure?" she suggested. "I only ever dated guys if they asked me, I never really liked them until after I knew that they were interested in me. Their attraction to me was really the only thing that made me interested."

Tim contemplated that, dread creeping back over the back of his mind. "When—" he coughed, his mouth going dry. Kate waited patiently as he took a sip of his tea. "When did you start figuring it out?"

Kate hummed. "I think I was about your age when I really started to suspect I was a lesbian, but everyone is different. Some people know all their lives, some don't figure it out until way later."

Tim's stomach felt hot and he set down his tea, then regretted it when he didn't have anything to do with his hands. "Is it... hard? To be... gay?" he forced out, his leg starting to bounce. His fingers twitched like he wanted to get his kit and cut into his leg. He shoved his hands under his thighs.

"Sometimes," Kate said, "but for the most part no. Whatever friends or family I might have lost weren't worth keeping if they didn't accept me for who I am. I've managed to find people who support me, love me for who I am."

Tim took a deep breath. He couldn't stop his leg from bouncing with anxious energy. He reached forward to pick up his tea again and sipped it. Kate watched him calmly, letting him take the lead. Tim tried to think of something else to ask her, something else to keep the conversation on her and off of him. He leaned forward to put his mug down again, but clipped the edge of the coffee table and tipped the mug out of his hands, spilling the last of his tea.

"Shit, sorry," he swore, searching around for something to mop up the mess.

"It's fine," Kate said, setting her own tea down and going fishing through her pockets. She pulled out a packet of tissues and pulled one out to clean up.

"It's not fine!" Tim shouted suddenly. He flushed at his own outburst. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

"It's alright," Kate said, once again watching him with that assessing gaze. Tim wished her eyes weren't so close in colour to Bruce's. "What's not fine?" she asked.

"Nothing," Tim answered quickly.

"It seems like something," Kate said, raising an eyebrow.

Tim pressed his lips together, as though he could keep everything down if he just clenched his teeth hard enough. His body seemed determined not to cooperate with him. "It's not... there's nothing wrong with me," he insisted.

"Of course not," Kate agreed. "Why would there be something wrong with you?"

Of course there was nothing that was wrong with Tim. Why should there be? He was fine, he was a normal young adult with normal hobbies and tastes. Of course, if there was nothing wrong, then why was Tim in such a state? If there was nothing wrong, then Tim would be going about his life like he always had, not sleeping for three days and flinging himself off buildings with the intention to land head first on the concrete. The contradiction made Tim's head swim. What was  _ wrong  _ with him? When had this started?

_ Paris _ , his brain reminded him. It was in Paris, panting underneath Kon as he split him apart, thrust into him, kissed him. Tim had never felt anything so intense, never felt so alive, never felt anything that felt so  _ right _ . Then on the rooftop, weeks later it had all come rushing back to him, electrifying and vibrant when he kissed Kon again. It was then when Tim's gut started to twist when he thought about who he wanted to kiss (Tam, Steph,  ~~ Kon ~~ , Lynx,  ~~ Kon ~~ ,  ~~ Kon ~~ ), when he started to reach for his kit every time he thought of Paris, when he started to question what he believed to be true about himself.

Kate must have seen something on his face as he struggled to answer her. Slowly, like he might startle if she moved too fast, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay kid?" she asked.

Tim's throat was dry. He licked his lips. "I... I don't know," he said quietly, voice trembling.

Kate's assessing eyes melted with sympathy. "It's okay," she said. "It's okay if you don't know. It can take a while to figure out."

Humiliatingly, Tim's eyes began to water and sting. He reached up to swipe them away; Kate wordlessly held out the packet of tissues for him. He took one and tried to blot out the moisture before it could form, but whatever wall he'd been hiding his tears behind broke and they spilled down his face. Tim sniffed and tried to staunch the flow, but it was already too much. Tim let out a shaking sob and curled up in himself, bringing his knees up and letting the tears fall.

Kate said nothing, only kept the tissues within reach and rubbed his shoulder steadily. She didn't make any soothing noises or shush at him, instead letting Tim cry himself out.

Eventually Tim's sobs began to die down and his breathing began to even out. Tim took deep breaths, letting the calm of the aftermath of a good cry wash over him. Kate squeezed his shoulder and he began to relax, muscle by muscle. After a few minutes he was slumped over his knees, limp and feeling wrung out like a damp towel.

"My dad—" Tim croaked, then coughed. He took a moment to clear his throat. "My dad used to make jokes, you know? About 'fags' and stuff."

Kate continued rubbing his shoulder, her hand migrating to his back. "Yeah?"

Tim nodded. "It wasn't really anything  _ bad _ . Not like, that they should be killed or locked up anything, but just... stereotypes and slurs and stuff."

"Not the nicest, but not the worst thing he could say either," Kate agreed.

"My mom  _ hated  _ gay people," Tim said, pressing his forehead into his knees. "She once fired a man at Drake when she found out he was living with his boyfriend."

"That's terrible," Kate said, reaching up to pet Tim's hair.

Tim closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. "She fired our gardener too, when I was little."

"Your gardener was gay?" Kate asked.

Tim closed his raw eyes. "No, his son was."

Kate didn't say anything, probably knowing the story already but waiting for him to tell it.

"He was my age, and we used to play together," Tim said, forcing his chest to inhale and exhale. "He's spend summers at the house with his dad when school was out. We'd spend hours running around the garden." Tim tried to picture those long ago days through the fog of memory. "I don't remember his name, and I barely remember what he looked like, but I remember when we used to sneak behind the shed and kiss."

"And then your mom found out," Kate said. It wasn't a question.

Tim nodded. "I can't even remember how it happened. I'd never seen her so mad at me. She yelled and swore and I never saw that gardener or that boy ever again."

Kate continued to pet his hair. Tim took a deep, shaking breath. "You know, when I was little I remember my mom being nice and affectionate with me. But as I got older I remember her as being kinda distant. I always thought—" Tim's throat closed as he started to choke. "I always thought that I just remembered wrong or something, but now I can't help—I can't help thinking that it was because of  _ me _ ."

"It was  _ not  _ because of you," Kate said sternly. She lifted her hand from his head and gripped his chin to make him look up at her. "Whatever it was, it wasn't your fault in any way, shape or form. Whatever it was that made your mom be the way she was, it was her problem, not yours, okay?"

Tim sniffled. "But I—"

"Ah, no," Kate said, shaking her head. "It wasn't you. Say it."

Tim swallowed around the lump in his throat. "It w-wasn't me," he said.

Kate gave a nod. "Good," she said, dropping his chin. She squeezed his shoulder again. "You're gonna be okay, alright?"

Tim sniffed hard and nodded. He felt shaky and dizzy, but oddly light. He felt a bit like a tangled up rope that had been pulled and yanked at until the gross, crusty knot had come undone, leaving him kinked up and frayed. He didn’t feel good, but he felt better.

“Alright,” Kate said, giving him a small smile. “Why don't I go and get some more tea?” she suggested.

Tim managed to smile back. “Sounds good.”

Kate gave his shoulder one last squeeze before taking their mugs and heading back to the kitchen. When she returned, Tim was fast asleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know that much about Kate, but I really like her character. I figured she'd be a good first person for Tim to talk to, her being slightly removed from him, but also an older mentor like figure in terms of figuring out that Tim was struggling with his sexuality. I'm hoping to include her a bit more in the fic, but we'll see.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second Tim chapter in a row because I had more ideas for his stuff than I did for Kon. I promise more Kon stuff is coming but Tim is way easier to write for me.
> 
> No triggers I guess aside from human trafficking I guess?

It took a few more days of rest, but eventually Tim felt well enough to start getting back into the swing of things. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his chest and he could breathe easier now that someone knew what he was struggling with. In the halls of the manor he’d sometimes run into Kate, who would give him a nod and a knowing smile, but kept her distance unless Tim went up to talk to her. He appreciated her presence, knowing he could go to her if he needed to talk to anyone again.

Bruce was a little less enthusiastic about Kate’s intrusions into his house. “Stop breaking in,” he growled at her one morning when he came to find her sitting at the breakfast table, casually flipping through his morning paper.

“I was invited,” Kate said, not looking up at her cousin.

“By who?” Bruce asked, shuffling over in his slippers and yanking his paper from where Kate had it laid on the table. He frowned at the coffee ring in one corner.

“By me,” Alfred said, walking in with a freshly filled coffee carafe. “I took the liberty of extending the hand of hospitality to one of the few remaining family members you haven’t managed to alienate.”

Bruce grumbled something unkind and sat down at the head of the table. Partway through spreading jam on his toast he seemed to remember something and looked over at Tim. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Tim looked up from where he was picking at his bowl of fruit salad (Alfred had gotten it into his head that Tim needed more vitamins in his diet and was feeding him accordingly). "I'm alright," he said, trying to smile.

"Are you feeling better?" Bruce asked, putting down his knife and toast to give Tim his full attention.

Was Tim feeling 'better'? Unable to help it, Tim glanced at Kate for a moment. She was staring at him, not in a way that seemed like she had been watching him, but like she had glanced up at the same time he had. Kate raised an eyebrow like she knew what he was asking himself.

"I'm better," Tim said, tearing his eyes away from her to look at Bruce. It didn't feel like a lie.

Bruce assessed Tim for a moment, a worried furrow between his brows. "Alright," he said after a moment, either convinced or not finding enough evidence to make a solid argument otherwise.

Tim shoved a piece of honeydew in his mouth. Kate's hand inched closer to Bruce's paper.

A minute passed in relative silence when Dick finally appeared in the dining room. He had a nasty bruise on the side of his face, like someone had clocked him in the cheekbone. He noticed Tim at the table and smiled, then grimaced slightly. If Tim had to guess, his cheek had hurt him when he smiled.

Dick took the seat next to Tim. "Hey, feeling better?" he asked. Tim noticed the darkened circles around his eyes.

"Yes, much," Tim answered.

"Good," Dick breathed a sigh of relief. "You were sick for so long. It must have been a hell of a bug you caught."

Tim glanced at Kate again. She hadn't managed to snatch the paper back from Bruce, but she had snagged his coffee and was innocently sipping at it while he pretended not to notice. "Well, it's the whole thing with my spleen right?" he said.

"Of course," Dick said. "You need to take better care of yourself now. Maybe less late nights?" he teased.

"You could simply retire," Damian piped up, having appeared in the dining room without Tim noticing. He sat on the other side of the table, one seat away from Kate, making Tim have to look diagonally down the table at him.

Tim hadn't seen anything of Damian since coming back to the manor. He must have kept his distance, or perhaps been blocked from pestering him by Bruce or Dick. He probably could have found a way around them, so Tim guessed he should be grateful that the little gremlin had at least some restraint.

It was hard to be grateful when he was glaring so disdainfully at Tim.

"No one is retiring," Dick said. "We're just going to have to be more careful from now on. Get our shots updated every year."

Damian scoffed. "I don't see why the rest of us should suffer to accommodate the weakness of one."

"We suffer to accommodate you being a pissy little shit," Tim snapped back. "I think it's a fair trade."

Dick winced at Tim's words, but Kate snorted a laugh, so Tim would count it as a win.

Damian went a little red in the face. "Father, you can't allow him to speak to me that way," he demanded.

"Damian, if you're going to pick a fight, you can't get mad when the other person throws a punch," Bruce said, sounding tired. "Everyone is going to get their shots updated and we're all going to be mindful of Tim's immune system, _including_ you Damian."

Damian's face pinched up, but lacking anyone on his side, he sullenly went back to his breakfast. Tim stayed tense for a moment, waiting for him to start in again, but when it was clear that he wouldn't be saying anything else. Dick let out a sigh, but didn't seem like he was about to reproach Tim for his words.

"So I was thinking," Dick said, snagging Bruce's last slice of toast and pouring more jam onto it, "we should do something today, you and me."

"Me?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Dick said, taking a bite out of the over-jammed toast. "It's been ages since we've done anything that was just us."

 _Well that's on you, isn't it?_ Tim didn't say, though the words burned in his stomach. It would do no one any good to go spitting on olive branches. "Sure, sounds nice," he said, smiling.

"We were going to the museum today," Damian piped up. "You said you'd take me." He was speaking to Dick, but glaring at Tim.

Dick looked up. "You said you didn't want to go."

"I changed my mind," Damian huffed.

Tim held his breath, waiting to see what Dick would do. _Tell the brat off,_ Tim asked in his mind. _Tell him you'll take him another day. Choose me this time._

Dick frowned. "Maybe Bruce can take you?"

"Father has meetings all day," Damian protested. He narrowed his eyes. "You said _you_ would take me."

Dick dithered for a moment, glancing between Tim and Damian. Tim noticed Bruce watching Dick over the top of his paper. It looked like he was waiting as well.

"Maybe... Tim would you like to come to the museum?" Dick asked.

The air left Tim's lungs in a rush, his chest deflating like a balloon. "That's fine, I'm not interested," he said. He pushed away his fruit salad. "I don't think I'm feeling well enough to go out after all." He stood up from the table and left the dining room.

"Tim wait," Dick called, getting up and following Tim. "Tim please."

Tim didn't slow down until they were out of earshot of the dining room. Dick caught up to him and grabbed his elbow to keep him from leaving. "Tim I'm sorry," he said, eyes pleading. "I'm sorry, I should have said something to Damian."

"It's fine Dick," Tim said, gently trying to pull his arm out of Dick's grip.

Dick held on tighter, refusing to let go. "It's not fine," he said. "Please Tim, I'm sorry."

"You made your choice," Tim said, finally wrenching his arm away. "I get it. It's fine."

"Tim," Dick pleaded, "it isn't like that."

"Isn't it?" Tim accused. "You chose Damian as your Robin, despite not even talking to me _once_ about it."

Dick looked pained. "I didn't want it to happen the way it happened," he said. " _Believe_ me, I meant to talk to you about it, but everything was so messed up at the time, there was so much that was suddenly all on me, I couldn't find the time to talk to you."

"Did you ever _consider_ what it did to me?" Tim snapped. "To see the little demon who tried to _kill_ me come down in my colours, mocking me the whole time? I was already reeling from everything that was happening, how do you think _that_ made me feel?"

"We were all reeling!" Dick snapped back, finally losing his temper. "You think I preferred _him_ over my own little brother? The person I _thought_ I was going to be able to depend on to be with me through all of this craziness? I wanted you _with_ me Tim! I _needed_ you with me!"

Tim felt his anger surge, hot and vicious in his gut. "Don't you _dare_ accuse _me_ of leaving after _you_ pushed me out! After you let _him_ push me out!"

"He needed Robin!" Dick said, throwing up his hands.

"I needed _you_ !" Tim shot back. "I needed my big brother and _you_ betrayed _me_!"

Silence screamed around them, broken only by their harsh breathing. Dick stared down at Tim and Tim stared up at Dick, both of them waiting for the other to back down. Tim's head swam with exertion and he swayed on his feet. Dick switched to concern when he noticed.

"Shit, Tim are you—?" he started to reach for him again.

"Fine." Tim swatted his hand away. He brushed past Dick and continued down the hall. "Enjoy the museum," he called over his shoulder.

* * *

It took some convincing and a thorough examination from Alfred, but that night Red Robin was cleared to return to the streets. Tim was a little nervous to return to duty so soon after nearly splatting himself into the street, but if he didn't get out and _do_ something he was going to lose his mind. Not only with boredom, but the idea that something could go wrong if he wasn't there to help.

Mindful of the last time he was out, Red Robin took his motorcycle through the streets, avoiding swinging if at all possible. Even being on his motorcycle was making him a little high strung. Tim regretted not pairing up with anyone tonight, but Steph was shadowing Kate tonight and he was still too pissed off with Dick to tolerate his presence. So Red Robin was flying solo tonight.

After a few minutes however, Tim was starting to relax a little. The familiarity of his motorcycle underneath him and the ragged streets of Gotham around him were putting him at ease. They were still dangerous, but it was a comfortable danger that Tim had long since grown used to.

"I can do this," Tim breathed to himself. "I'm in control."

After his 'sick leave', Red Robin was starting off light, making a few rounds through the city to smack some petty criminals around, something he could do in his sleep. One would think that criminals would smarten up in a city so full of vigilantes that took a special interest in street level crime, but there were always plenty of muggers, carjackers, burglars, and other assorted idiots to keep Red Robin busy.

Red Robin was just cuffing a would-be bicycle thief when there was the sound of a window shattering and the tell-tale sound of a body hitting the pavement. Red Robin swore and finished tying the thief to the very bike rack he'd been cutting bikes from and took off down the alley. He was in the heart of the Narrows, it could have been anything from some drunk falling through his window to a rogue making an example out of a minion.

When he rounded the corner of the alley, he saw the source of the noise, or at least the cause of it. A man writhed on the ground, groaning in pain, surrounded by broken glass. Red Robin rushed over and did a quick check; he'd live, but he wasn't about to get up and run away. Looking up Red Robin quickly identified the window the man had been thrown through. After calling an ambulance for the prone man, he carefully scaled the side of the building and peeked through the window.

The shattered window led to a tiny room. The smell was the first thing Red Robin noticed, followed by the cluster of huddled bodies in the corner and Red Hood crouching in front of them.

Tim cursed, ducking his head so as not to be seen. When it seemed like Jason hadn't noticed him, he peeked his head up over the window to get a better look of the scene.

The cluster of human bodies were all women, Tim noted, all young and of possible South Asian ethnicity. Red Hood crouched in front of them, speaking softly as they cowered in the corner. _Human trafficking victims_ , Tim guessed immediately, the man on the ground below them a either a trafficker or a buyer. Some of the women didn't look like they were older than teenagers, girls really. Red Hood kept his voice low and his hands out in the open for them to see at all times. From the fragments of his voice Tim managed to catch, he was trying to convince them that he was there to help them.

Deliberating for another moment, Red Robin made a decision and swung himself over the windowsill. One of the girls screamed and Red Hood was up like a shot, gun drawn and aimed at Red Robin's chest. Tim put his hands up immediately, but Red Hood took a moment to lower his weapon.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Red Hood demanded, tucking his gun away in his holster.

"I heard you throw the guy through the window," Red Robin said. "You know, normally when Batman does that, he catches them with a de-cel line."

"Was he dead?" Red Hood asked, tone sarcastic.

"No," Tim answered.

"Then what are you complaining about?" Jason asked rhetorically, turning to the girls and resuming his attempts to reassure them. They were still spooked by Red Robin’s sudden appearance, some were even crying now.

Red Robin slowly stepped forward, mirroring Red Hood’s posture and keeping his hands visible at all times. He smiled at the girls, which seemed to help a little, and slowly reached into his utility belt for the little pouch of chocolate-covered cranberries he kept for situations like this. He opened the pouch, ate a couple of the berries, then offered them to one of the girls. The girl cringed away from him at first, but eventually relaxed when it was clear that he wasn’t about to hurt her. She took the offered pouch and nibbled on a few berries before sharing them with the other girls.

“We should call the police,” Red Robin said, watching the women and noticing how thin and sickly they looked.

“No,” Red Hood said sharply. “No police.”

“Hood, we can’t leave them here,” Red Robin protested. “They need medical attention.”

“They also don't have any papers. We take them to the police, they get deported back to the rat holes they were trying to get away from when they got taken," Jason explained. "No police, no hospitals."

"Well we can't just leave them here," Red Robin snapped. He glanced around the room and finally found the source of the foul stench; a bucket in the corner of the room.

"I didn't say we were leaving them," Jason said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, seeming to debate the wisdom of telling Red Robin his plans, but ultimately deciding that Tim wouldn't just let him walk away without an explanation. "There's a shelter on the other side of the Narrows. They don't check papers and they don't ask questions."

"Will they have room for all of them?" Tim asked, digging around in his belt for another pouch of snacks. He found some yogurt covered raisins and passed them out.

"They should, they just renovated," Red Hood said. Seeing that Red Robin had won the women over with food, he stood to pull out his phone.

An hour or so later, the women were on their way to a shelter, two women from the shelter having shown up within a few minutes of Red Hood's call. One of the women could speak the language most of the girls spoke (Tagalog, Tim learned), and very quickly began to explain what was happening. The other woman from the shelter talked with Red Hood for a moment. Red Robin stood to the side, but he learned that this was not the first batch of young women and children that the Red Hood had liberated and sent to the shelter, and that he'd been donating generously to help keep the shelter afloat. The 'renovations' that Jason had mentioned were in large part thanks to large duffle bags full of cash getting stuffed in their mail slot.

After the women had been safely packed into a van and being ferried off to the shelter, Tim found Jason on the roof of the building, smoking a cigarette.

"I've been tracking these bastards all across the city," Jason said before Tim could ask. "They snatch up girls and kids trying to get to America for a better life, then dump them in this shithole city until they get sold off."

"How many have you rescued so far?" Tim asked.

Jason took a long drag of his cigarette. "Not enough."

Tim pressed his mouth into a thin line. "I know how that feels," he said softly. No matter how much he did, it never seemed to balance the scales.

They stayed on the roof for a while, simmering in the silence. Jason took one last drag of his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. "You know that's really bad for you," Tim said.

"So's dying," Jason said. He looked over at Tim, and it was still difficult to read his thoughts, but Tim was getting better at guessing, and he seemed to be looking for something. "How're your legs?" he asked after what felt like a whole minute.

It took Tim a moment to understand what Jason meant. "They're fine," he said. He'd been steadfastly avoiding returning to his Nest where he kept his kit. He didn't dare make another one at the manor, not with so many people who were trained detectives and had a warped sense of personal boundaries.

"Stand on any rooftops lately?" Jason asked.

"Aside from this one?" Tim shot back rhetorically.

"Brat, you know what I meant," Jason growled.

"Why are you so concerned?" Tim asked instead of answering. He hadn't tried to kill himself since the last time he'd seen Jason, but the questions were starting to irritate him.

Jason shrugged. "Maybe I'm not," he said.

"You obviously are," Tim said, "otherwise you wouldn't bother asking."

Jason grumbled something Tim couldn't catch. He made to walk away, taking a few steps, then stopped, groaned, and turned to come back. "I don't know, alright?" Jason snapped. "I still hate you, all of you, but my head's all—" he waved his hands around erratically "—so I don't want to kill you. I don't even want you _dead_ anymore. Maybe I never did, my head's that fucked up right now."

With that Jason stomped off, though he only made it as far as the other corner of the rooftop. Tim wondered what Jason had been up to since he'd dropped off of their radar. The most they'd been able to piece together was that he'd been wandering around the world, seemingly with no real direction, with two of Dick's old friends, Koriand'r and Roy Harper. Before he left, Jason had been obsessed, murderous and out for the blood of everyone so much as tangentially involved with Batman. Whatever wacky adventures he'd had with Starfire and Arsenal seemed to have tempered him somehow, drawn out the crazy and left more of the Robin Tim used to admire. Red Hood was still brutal, and didn't seem to care much if he killed some human trafficker who the world would be better off without anyway, but he was different now, _Jason_ was different now.

Tim cautiously made his way over to Jason. There was still no telling how much of Jason was still inside that helmet, but it was at least enough that Tim felt confident he wouldn’t attack outright. Jason didn't look over as Tim came to stand at his side. They looked out over the city together in silence, taking in the rhythm of the streets. The wind hissed around them, bringing with it the smells of garbage, metal and chemicals, and rotting flowers from the florist a block upwind from them. Tim took a deep breath, inhaling the probably toxic air and letting it out with a sigh.

“I’ve been talking,” Tim said suddenly, cracking through the silence.

Jason hummed. “To Bruce?”

“God no,” Tim said, almost laughing. “Can you imagine trying to have an emotional conversation with Bruce?”

Jason snorted. “Yeah no, you're right, that would never happen.”

They stood there chuckling for a moment at the absurdity of the idea before calming down. “I’m actually talking with Kate,” Tim explained, even though his heart thudded a little. Would that be too much and tip Jason off?

"Kate," Jason said slowly, trying to parse out who that name belonged to. "That's Bruce's cousin right? The red headed girl?"

"That's her," Tim said, relaxing a little. Maybe Jason didn't know her well enough to guess what Tim might talk about with her.

Jason nodded. "She seemed nice," he said. "Always wished Bruce would invite her over more." There was a pause. "I'm pretty sure she's Batwoman," Jason said.

Tim struggled to keep a straight face. "Maybe," he said. He wasn't about to go dropping anyone else's secrets.

Jason raised an eyebrow at him from under his mask. "Would have thought you'd talk to Goldilocks or something. You seemed tight."

A shot a bitterness swept through Tim. "We're not really on speaking terms right now."

Jason whistled. "Someone sounds a little chilly. What did golden boy do to make you so pissed?"

 _Chose that psychopathic little goblin over me, refused to believe me about Bruce, blamed_ **_me_ ** _for leaving when he did nothing to make me feel welcome in my own home_ , Tim listed in his head, each coming with its own flavour of bitter. "He did a lot of things," he said, "but I wouldn't care if he just... _acknowledged_ that what he did was shitty and apologized for it."

Jason snorted. "Well, he's always been kind of a dick."

It was a tired, dusty old joke that had been thrown around before, often by Dick himself. Usually it was met with eyerolls and groans of pain, sometimes an amused chuckle, but today it sent Tim into peals of laughter. Maybe it was because Tim was still so mad at Dick, maybe it was the way Jason said it, or maybe it was the absurdity of _Jason_ —the Red Hood, the dead Robin—saying it that made Tim throw back his head and laugh so hard his stomach started to hurt. It must have been infectious because Jason started laughing too.

"He is _such_ a dick!" Tim said through his tapering off giggles.

Jason's laughter was loud and boisterous, coming up from deep in his belly and devolving into breathy huffs as he wound down. "God he really is," he said. "And a self-righteous prick to boot."

"He always has to be the leader in any situation," Tim said, rolling his eyes under his cowl. "I think that's why he's always such an asshole when it comes to Bruce. He can't stand getting ordered around."

"He was like that when I was Robin," Jason agreed. "What a jackass."

"He gets it from Bruce," Tim said. "He'd never admit it in a million years, but he learned to do that from Bruce."

Jason gave another snort. "He never admits when he's been an asshole either. Not since I've known him has he ever owned up to when he's been a piece of shit. Even when he does he has to make some bullshit excuse to try and justify what he did."

Tim hummed, his mood dipping slightly. "Yeah, that sounds familiar," he said.

Jason noticed Tim's sudden change in demeanor. "Guess that was one of the 'things' he's been doing to piss you off, huh?"

Tim let out a long sigh. "Yeah, that's what he's been doing. He just… he chose that little psychopath as his Robin, then turned around and got pissy with _me_ when I got mad at him," he explained.

Jason tutted and shook his head. "And after the bitch-fit he threw when the boss made _me_ Robin," he said, "You'd think he'd be more sensitive about it."

"You'd think," Tim grumbled, "but he's constantly _defending_ that little demon. After he tried to _kill_ me! Twice!"

"I tried to kill you, lots of times," Jason pointed out.

"Yeah sure, but he'd punch you out for it," Tim said. "He'd sooner give the brat a cookie than scold him for anything."

"That new little Robin does seem pretty vicious," Jason said.

Tim groaned. "And it's not like I don't get why he did it. I honestly do."

Even though there was no love lost between him and Damian, Tim could see that Damian had improved greatly since his arrival, and that was in great part due to Robin. He even sympathized with Damian on some level, knowing the background he came from must have screwed up his head pretty badly. Damian was only ten years old and this was the first time he was being encouraged to be a normal child. If Tim had been asked about it, he probably would have agreed to give Robin to Damian to help him.

But Tim hadn't been asked. Dick had just gone ahead and given it away without his approval.

"I just thought he cared about me more than that," Tim said softly.

Silence settled around them, broken only by the sounds of the city existing around them. Tim thought about how betrayed he'd felt when it had happened. Not only had Dick refused to trust that Tim was right about Bruce, but he'd taken Robin away from him and let Damian push him out, and even now he favoured Damian over Tim. Tim knew he should be sensitive about the situation, Dick had lost Bruce just as Tim had, but it still hurt so badly. He'd felt so betrayed at the time, and the sting hadn't faded even months later. Part of him wanted to just forget the whole thing, forgive Dick and forget it ever happened, but another part of him wanted a proper apology. He wanted Dick to own up to what he did, admit that he'd hurt Tim and beg for forgiveness.

Harsh maybe, but Tim was too tired to care anymore.

Tim’s comm beeped, telling him that someone was trying to reach him. “I need to go,” he said.

If Tim wasn’t imagining it, Jason looked a little disappointed. “Yeah, I should get going too. These guys usually work in pairs, so I should start tracking the other one down.”

“If you ever need help, let me know,” Tim said. “I might be able to do something on my end.”

Jason looked over, surprised. “Oh… thanks,” he said.

Tim watched Jason for a moment, tempted to say something else, but not wanting to spook him off. Red Hood could be a good ally if he played his cards right, and it seemed like there was still hope for Jason as well. So Tim left the ball in his court, letting Jason decide if he ever wanted Tim’s help.

“I should go,” Red Hood said, picking up his helmet and heading for the edge of the building near the fire escape. “See ya.”

Tim felt the words well up in his throat. "Thanks, by the way," he said.

"For?" Jason asked, stopping at the top of the fire escape.

 _Stopping me from killing myself_. "Making me laugh," Tim said. "It's been a long time since I laughed like that."

Jason grinned. “Hey, anytime you want to talk trash about the others,” he said. “You’re welcome.”

With that, Red Hood put on his helmet and disappeared down the fire escape. Red Robin’s comm beeped again and he turned. Time to get back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really love Dick, he's a great character, but the way both the writers and some of the fandom treat him and Damian's relationship really gets on my nerves. It's like they forgot how close Tim and Dick used to be before Damian came and are trying to make it all about Dick and Damian being brothers. Don't get me wrong, Damian and Dick have a very sweet relationship sometimes, but I fell like Dick lets Damian get away with too much and Damian is constantly driving a wedge between Dick and Tim. Plus the way writers and some fans sometimes baby-fy Damian into a little kid is annoying, like he's not aware of himself being a little shit, or at least his shitty behaviour is tolerated as him being an unruly child. He constantly acts vicious and mean towards Tim, and then people get mad at Tim for not trusting the little shit. I think I'm going to go into it more in upcoming chapters, but I wanted to rant about it a little.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me so much trouble, I really had to fight with it. I was originally going to do a chapter with Kon, but I found the chapter I did with him didn't really have anything in it character or plot wise. So I scrapped the basically complete chapter and restarted with Tim, and I got a significant portion of it done only to lose the whole thing. So I had to rewrite the beginning, and then the ending decided to make itself difficult. I finally got it finished though, so I hope you enjoy!

Tim stayed at the manor, despite how strained things were between him and Dick. The two of them circled each other like wounded cats, both of them on guard but neither willing to strike first. Several times it seemed like Dick was on the verge of saying something; Tim would catch him out of the corner of his eye, watching him, chest inflating like he was about to call out. Then he would stop, the words stalling and his chest deflating like a balloon. Tim stubbornly refused to be the first one to say anything. It was petty and probably unfair, but Tim was still too angry to care. Dick was the one who owed him an apology, he could be the one to own up to it. Bruce and Alfred seemed to understand there was something going on between the two of them, but neither of them pried or suggested they work things out.

Even with the way things were with Dick, Tim was slowly starting to improve. The manor was always busy with noise and commotion, but Tim found it comforting. As a child he'd gotten so used to silence, his big empty childhood home echoing forlornly with it, but the manor always had some kind of cacophony to fill the gaps. The din made Tim feel like he was never alone, even when he'd been hiding out in one of the sitting rooms for hours. Tim had lived at the manor on and off since he was thirteen, often through the worst parts of his life, and the walls themselves seemed to understand him. They'd seen him at his absolute worst, and they hadn't swallowed him up yet.

Of course, there were still bad nights, nights when Tim couldn't sit still even after an exhausting patrol. His mind would race and his fingers would itch for his kit, something to soothe the chaos in his chest. On these sleepless nights Tim would wander through the halls, trying to find something to keep himself busy so his mind could stop eating itself.

Kate had become his lifeline for these nights. She'd discreetly slipped him her phone number at dinner one night, handing it off like a piece of top secret intel.  _ Your secret is safe with me _ , she seemed to say, never once mentioning their late night chats to anyone else. Tim appreciated the gesture. When he got too wrapped up in his head, he knew he could trust her.

Bit by bit, Tim was starting to accept the truth. It was difficult, especially with so much else going on at the same time, but he was slowly sorting it out in his head. It still terrified him, but with Kate’s help he was starting to not only accept it, but be alright with it.

He wasn't quite ready to accept it  _ completely _ yet. There was something he had to do first. He had to be  _ sure. _

Tim was working on a case at the Cave’s computer when he heard the rumble of a motorcycle coming up the path. He turned to watch as the Ricochet swerved into its parking space and Batgirl climbed out, sauntering up the stairs to the main part of the Cave.

“You’re out late,” Tim remarked as she passed by. “It’s almost sunrise.”

“I had a late start today,” Steph explained, pulling off her cowl and shaking out her hair. “I have an exam this afternoon that I needed to study for.”

“Responsible,” Tim said. He smiled at her. “It’s a good look on you.”

Since Tim had come back to Gotham, he and Steph had been on odd terms. Steph was going to college and he was working at Wayne Enterprises, their lives taking different turns and only seeming to meet in the big, Batman-shaped middle. They hadn’t really had much time to figure out what was their new normal, where they stood with one another.

Tim wanted to know, he needed to figure it out.

Steph stopped and turned to smile at him. She wandered over to him and leaned on his shoulder. “What are you working on?” she asked.

“Nothing that won’t keep,” he said, saving his progress and shutting off the computer. “Why don’t we head upstairs and have some hot chocolate before bed?”

Steph’s smile was bright and joyful, lighting up the room like it always had. “Sounds good to me. Let me go change first.”

It was early enough in the morning that even Alfred wasn't up yet, and the whole house felt as though it were sleeping. Even the familiar ghosts that restlessly wandered the halls seemed to be taking a break. Tim and Steph snuck through the house, feeling like naughty children up past their bedtime, giggling and whispering conspiritously. They quickly made their hot chocolate and decided to head up to the roof to watch the sunrise.

It was getting colder out as the seasons began to turn, and the mornings in Gotham had taken on a damp, dewy quality. The roof was slick with a layer of moisture, and they had to carefully pick their way along to the best spot to watch the sunrise. It was honestly too cold to be up there without some sort of sweater, which neither of them had, but they huddled close and curled around their steaming mugs.

They say in comfortable, familiar silence as they watched the sun rise over the sprawl of Gotham. The city slowly roused from another restless, screaming night, shaking off the nightmares and greeting the new day with determined resignation. The air was still and a mist crept through the air, glowing gold as the sun peeked over the horizon.

Steph hummed and leaned into Tim's side, her weight familiar against him. "This is nice," she said, dropping her head onto his shoulder.

"It's been too long," Tim agreed, resting his cheek on her head. She smelled like strawberry dry shampoo and smog. She must have swung for at least part of the night.

"Well, we both got kinda busy," Steph said. "I've got classes and you're running a company."

Tim chuckled. "I'm not really running anything," he said. "I mostly just show up and try to look important."

Steph laughed. "Nah, can't see it," she said.

"No?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope," Steph said. "I know you, and there's no way you could ever be a part of something and not throw everything you have into it. The Tim Drake I know does not half-ass things."

Tim snorted. "I guess you're right," he said. "Tam and I are working on a new project to bring new tech to inner city preschools and elementary schools."

He could feel Steph smiling against his shoulder. "So how are things with Tam? Still getting hitched?"

Tim groaned. "No, I think I screwed things up pretty hard with her. We're civil to each other at work, but she's still pretty mad."

"Fair, you kind of have that effect on people," Steph said, nudging him. "I'd know better than anyone."

"And yet we dated for how long?" Tim nudged her back. She laughed and they fell back into silence.

It was nice, being with Steph. Tim had done this so many times before that it was easy to fall into step with her. Her warmth against his side felt natural, like an extension of his own self. She put him at ease the way no one else did.

"We should do something later," Tim said into the silence.

"Something?" Steph asked, slightly drowsily.

"Something," Tim agreed.

Steph tilted her head to look up at him. "Like a date?" she asked.

"Sure," Tim said. "Dinner and a movie?"

"And then swinging after?" Steph asked, grinning. "Just like old times?"

"Just like old times," Tim agreed. "I'll pick you up after your exam?"

"In one of your stupid, flashy sports cars?" Steph asked.

"The stupidest, flashiest car I have," he said.

Steph laughed and leaned up to place a kiss to his cheek. "Sounds like fun," she said.

Tim smiled down at her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. They watched the sky for a bit longer, the sun casting shadows and lighting up the clouds above them in all manner of pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges. Steph's weight began to settle more solidly against him.

"Alright, time for bed," Tim said, nudging her up and taking their mugs.

"Ugh," Steph groaned, standing up and stretching. "Why did I even decide to go to college?"

"A thirst for knowledge and learning? Upward social mobility?" Tim suggested, taking her hand to help her across the roof.

"Yeah well, we can't all be the adopted sons of billionaires," Steph huffed.

Tim snorted. "You could probably get Bruce to pay for your tuition, if you asked nicely."

"Oh my God!" Steph suddenly shouted, startling a bird out of a nearby tree. "Do you know what that asshole did!?"

"What did he—?" Tim started to ask before Steph plowed forward without waiting to hear him.

"So he offered to pay my tuition right?" Steph said, waving her free hand around. "And I was like, no thank you, I don't want a hand out, I can handle my own shit. And then you know what he did!?"

Tim didn't bother responding, knowing Steph would tell him anyway. "He went around behind my back, made a  _ whole new scholarship _ , and paid my tuition  _ anyway _ !"

Tim tried not to grin. "Oh no, what a monster."

"Right!?  _ Four years _ of tuition all paid up! What the hell!?" Steph said.

"I'm sure he feels very ashamed of himself," Tim said, not bothering to hide his snickering.

"He should! He made my mom cry!" Steph said. She noticed Tim's laughter and narrowed her eyes at him. "You're making fun of me."

"Yes, absolutely," Tim said.

"Asshole," Steph huffed. "See if I give you a goodnight kiss now."

Tim snorted. "Now  _ that  _ would be a tragedy."

By now they'd made it back to the spot to climb down from the roof. There was no reason for Tim to help her down, she’d lept from planes and scaled skyscrapers, but he still offered his hand out for her. There was no reason for her to accept his offer, but she laid her hand in his and let him escort her down.

“My lady,” he teased, pretending to tip an imaginary hat.

“Oh god,” Steph snorted, shoving at his face.

They laughed and tussled for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, the closeness they’d always had. Tim saw it coming before it happened, but made no move to stop it. Steph curled her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He kissed her back automatically, his body knowing what to do, conditioned to Steph’s lips against his. 

Kissing Steph felt nice, it felt  _ comfortable _ , like a favourite sweater worn every day. It was familiar territory for Tim, a path he'd tread a thousand times before. When Steph pulled away he smiled at her.

"Goodnight Tim," Steph said, smiling softly up at him.

"Night," he responded. "I'll pick you up after your exam?"

"Sounds good," Steph said. She disentangled herself from Tim and yawned. "God, I need to sleep."

"Go to bed," Tim said, giving her a nudge.

"Don't tell me what to do," Steph said, nudging him back, but already heading towards the wing where the bedrooms were. She didn't really have an 'official' bedroom at the manor, but the guest room she stayed in when she slept over was in the same wing as the rest of their bedrooms.

Tim watched her disappear down the hall, thinking about what he and Steph had just shared. It had felt right, to be with Steph. Why shouldn't it? They had known each other for so long, been through so much together, knew each other so well. There was no reason Tim should feel at all strange when he was with Steph.

Deciding he was too tired to contemplate that line of thought, Tim went to deposit the mugs off in the kitchen and then get some sleep for once. He wanted to be well rested for his date.

* * *

Tim, true to his word, picked Steph up after her exam outside of the front of the campus, driving his flashiest car, some sporty little red convertible that was made to make noise and draw the eye of everyone around. He revved the engine a few times as Steph came out of the building, making her roll her eyes at him. The top was down so she just hopped inside, shoving her backpack under her feet because there was no backseat.

"Hey there stranger," she said, slipping the seat belt around her chest.

"Stranger?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow at her over his sunglasses. "Shouldn't a college educated girl like you know better than to get into a 'stranger's' car?"

Steph snorted inelegantly. "Like I couldn't kick your ass," she said. "Come on, I'm hungry and you're paying for dinner."

"Who said that?" Tim said, peeling out onto the road. Steph laughed and threw back her head, letting her blonde hair billow out in the wind.

They ended up at one of their favourite diners, one they'd been to a half a dozen times before. Steph complained about school and Tim listened with occasional commentary. Tim carefully dodged talking about himself, but if Steph noticed—which she most certainly had—she kept it to herself. Tim paid for their meals and they walked down the block to the movie theatre. Steph curled her arm through his, even as he hobbled on his fake crutches.

There were a few movies playing, some of which looked like the perfect kind to completely ignore and make out in the back of the theatre. They picked a movie they'd both actually been wanting to see, but hadn't gotten around to yet. Despite having just had dinner, they loaded up on snacks and got seats in the middle row. Throughout the movie Tim held Steph's hand, feeling her squeeze during intense moments. Tim never once felt the urge to lean over and kiss her, he was too engrossed in the movie.

When the movie was over, they spent some time walking around, chatting about the movie and the current state of Hollywood. They were mostly just killing time until it was late enough for an early patrol. The sun was barely down before the two of them were suited up and practically flying over the rooftops.

Batgirl let out a loud whoop as she vaulted over a ventilation unit. "Now  _ this  _ is an ideal date!"

Red Robin laughed, feeling better than he had in  _ weeks _ . He'd missed this so much; hanging out with Steph, stealing moments of normal, having  _ fun  _ while on patrol. When had things stopped being fun? It felt like everything nowadays was non-stop seriousness, every crisis bleeding into the next until it all blurred together. Swinging over the city with Steph was like coming up for air after being stuck at the bottom of a pool. For the first time in a while Tim felt like he could  _ breathe _ .

They were early to patrol and no one else was out yet. The criminals had yet come out from their hiding places either, so Batgirl and Red Robin were free to swing over and scale up buildings to their heart's content. They played a game of tag, chasing one another over the rooftops, laughing and trading barbs. It felt like old times, when they were children, just starting out on this winding path to where they were now. If Tim had known that he was going to end up here, would he have still chosen this life?

Watching Steph swing through the air with a joyous cry, Tim couldn't bring himself to regret much of it.

After nearly two hours of swinging and vaulting across rooftops, Batgirl came to a stop atop a towering skyscraper, breathing hard. Red Robin landed next to her, his own chest heaving. Batgirl grinned at him under her cowl and leapt into his arms, laughing as he spun her. Tim laughed along, feeling like he was on top of everything for once. If he had people like Steph in his corner, there was nothing he couldn't handle.

Tim stopped spinning but kept his arms around Steph, holding her against his body. Even through both sets of body armor, Tim could pick out the familiar curves and points of her body. In his head he could map out the various scars she'd acquired over the years. He didn't think there was anyone he knew as intimately as the woman in his arms. Steph smiled down at him and leaned in for a kiss.

Just like their previous kiss, Tim responded automatically, kissing back before he'd thought to command himself to move. It was more heated than last time, Steph parting her lips to deepen the kiss. Tim tightened his arms and tried to concentrate on the feeling, on  _ being  _ with her. Steph slid one hand around to the back of his cowl, where if his hair were uncovered she'd play with the strands at the base of his neck. She slid her tongue along his lips, murmuring encouragement into his mouth. It felt…

It felt fine.

It felt like he’d done this before and he could do it again. It wasn't bad, but nor did it make Tim’s heart bang in his chest like he wanted to drown in her. There was contentment, but no  _ passion _ .

Tim pulled away from the kiss and set Steph down on her feet, but didn't let her go. He let out a long sigh and rested his forehead against hers.

"Tim?" Steph asked, sliding her hands down his arms and squeezing his biceps. "What's wrong?"

Tim shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts together. He'd wanted this to work, he'd wanted it to all be a misunderstanding, but deep down he'd known it was impossible. He would only be lying to himself and lying to Stephanie, which wasn't fair to either of them.

Taking long, shivering breaths, Tim eventually composed himself. "This isn't going to work," he said, barely more than a whisper.

"What's not?" Steph asked, and Tim could feel her tense in his arms, putting her guard up.

"This," Tim said, squeezing her close. "Us, like this."

Steph sucked in a breath and pulled away, ready to be angry, ready to lash out. "Why the hell not?" she asked, hurt in her eyes.

"Steph," Tim called softly, reaching for her.

"No, I want to hear it," Steph snapped, pulling away and crossing her arms, closing herself off from him. "I want to hear what sort of bullshit excuse you've come up with for us not to be together."

Tim sucked in some air, but he felt like he was underwater. If he pushed forward, there was no going back. He felt his face and stomach grow hot. No more lies, not to the people closest to him, not to himself. Forcing himself to take another deep, watery breath, Tim pushed the truth into the air.

"I'm gay."

There it was, the truth, floating away, never to return to the shadows. All of a sudden Tim felt light, the water disappearing and leaving him dizzy. He'd been denying it for so long, even when it was staring him in the eyes. It was the first time he'd ever admitted it aloud, to himself or anyone.

Steph's mouth parted in shock, her guarded stance dropping in an instant. "Oh," she breathed. "I guess that's a good excuse."

Tim let out a hysterical little giggle, pitchy and startled. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to panic. Strangely, he didn't feel like he was about to panic, like he'd expected it to. He didn't feel like the floor under him was going to give out, he didn't feel like he wanted the wind to carry him away; he felt calm. He felt like he'd just solved a difficult case, finally aligning things just right so it all matched up, it all made sense. Tim took a deep breath and shivered in the cold air.

Steph was watching Tim, and he could guess her thought process, her brain clicking the pieces together. For a second her gaze was too intense, too penetrating. He knew her, but she knew him. Tim turned away and walked to the edge of the building, staring down the dizzying height of the building to the street below.

After a few minutes, Steph joined him at the edge of the building. She made no move to touch him, and for a while they stood there in silence. Tim didn't look at her, but he could feel her next to him. That familiar shape, the comforting warmth of her reached out to him even through the cold.

"How long have you known?" she asked eventually.

Tim shrugged. "A while I guess? It's hard to say," he said. "I've been… fighting with myself about it."

Steph nodded in understanding. "Have you told anyone else?"

Tim shook his head. "Kate knows, we talked about it a little, but you're the first person I've actually said the words to."

Steph let out a hum and they fell into patient silence. After a moment Steph reached out to him, curling her arm around his and resting her head on his shoulder. Tim let out a long, deep sigh and rested his cheek over her head.

"What was tonight about?" Steph asked, not sounding upset at all, but not exactly curious either.

"I was… I was testing myself I guess," Tim said. "If it was going to be anyone, it would have been you."

Steph let out a sharp, brittle laugh. "So I wasn't good enough?"

"No," Tim said, picking his head up and grabbing for her hand. "That's not what I meant. You're  _ more  _ than enough Steph. It's me, okay? It's just me."

Steph nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I know, sorry," she said. "I know it doesn't work like that."

"Steph," Tim said, turning to face her, "you're the most important person in the world to me. You've made me into the person I am today. There's no version of me that exists without you."

There were tears in her eyes, but she smiled at him. Tim smiled back, his eyes starting to sting. They both moved into the hug, curling around one another. Tim could feel the inside of his cowl get gross as he began to cry in earnest and Steph pushed it back for him. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and started to sob.

“It’s okay Tim, I’ve got you,” she soothed, running her hand through his hair and letting him cry.

A half an hour later saw them sitting together on the edge of the roof, swinging their legs over the drop, arms around one another. By now the night had completely taken hold, but they stayed on the rooftop, watching the city crawl beneath them. Tim had cried himself out and was feeling exhausted, but he felt like he could breathe easier now, like there had been something wrapped around his chest and now he’d ripped it free.

They sat in silence for a while, just soaking in one another's company. Tim hadn't really realized how much he'd missed Stephanie, how much her presence soothed him. They'd been through so much together, their lives had intertwined for so long, there was no way of knowing how much of him would still be  _ him _ without her. Attracted to her or not, Tim loved her, and he couldn't imagine himself being who he was without her.

After a while, they started to talk. It was tentative at first, little questions, little reassurances, but eventually they started to come together again. It was always so easy to talk to her, she always knew just what to say to make him feel better. Within a few minutes she had him smiling and laughing again.

"So who was your first crush?" Steph asked, leaning into his side.

"Dick probably," Tim answered with a shrug. "It would certainly explain a few things."

Steph snorted. "Yeah I should have seen that coming," she said. "Is it weird that he's your brother now?"

"Well it never would have worked anyway," Tim said. "I was four when we met."

Steph barked out a laugh. "Yeah I don't think he would have been interested," she said. "Alright, what's your type?"

"Not sure yet," Tim said. "I'm still kind of figuring things out."

"Fair," Steph said. "Is there anyone you want to date?"

Tim thought of Kon, but shoved it away. "I don't think I'm ready to date just yet. I'm still… there's still a lot I'm working through."

Steph hummed, clearly suspecting something, but not about to pester him about it. "Have you ever kissed a guy?" she asked instead.

Tim took a breath. "Well, there was a boy when I was a kid," he said. He explained about the gardener's son, and what had happened with his mother. By the end of it, Steph had pulled his head down onto her shoulder and was running her hands through her hair.

"I'm sorry Tim, that must have been awful," she said, voice barely more than a whisper.

"It was a long time ago," Tim said.

"But you're okay now?" Steph asked, dreading the answer.

Tim closed his eyes and thought about everything that was still going on; Dick, Damian, Jason,  _ Kon _ . So many things that were still up in the air, hanging unresolved. "There's a  _ lot  _ Steph. It's… it's been a long year."

Steph let out a long sigh. "Yeah, it really has," she said. "It's been rough all around."

Tim took a shuddering breath, trying to close out the nasty little feelings inside of him. He willed his fingers not to itch for his kit, wishing desperately that he could just make it all go away. If only it was just this, just admitting that he was gay and that being the end of it.

"But hey," Steph said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You got through it. You admitted it and you got through. I'm so proud of you."

Tim looked up at Steph and smiled. "Yeah I… I'm working through it."

"With Kate right?" Steph asked. "You're talking with her?"

Tim nodded. "It just kinda happened one night," he said. "She's doing her best to help me figure it out."

"That's nice of her," Steph said. She went quiet for a while, but Tim let her work into it. "I'm a little upset you didn't come to me first."

Tim let out a short sigh. "Kate knows, but I didn't really  _ tell  _ her," he said. "You're the first person I've actually  _ told _ . Kate… it just kind of  _ happened _ . She knows what it's like."

Steph gave a low hum. "I guess I shouldn't make this about me," she said. "I'm glad that you have someone to help you."

"Well I've got you now as well," Tim said, squeezing her tightly. "I don't think I could do this without you Steph."

"Well put  _ me  _ on the spot," Steph huffed, but there was a chuckle in her voice. "You've got me Tim. I'll always be in your corner."

Tim smiled and nudged his head against hers. "Thank you," he said, the words soft enough to almost be carried away on the wind.

Steph kissed his forehead again. "I love you Tim," she said. "Platonically of course."

Tim snorted. "Of course," he said. "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love Tim and Steph's relationship, and I wish more fic writers would explore it outside of just shipping. Tim and Steph don't just stop being close even though they're not dating. I'd say Steph and Tim are sort of platonic soulmates (though that doesn't discount that Kon is also Tim's soulmate), they've been through so much together and shaped each other through it all. I don't think either character would have worked as well as they do without the other. They LOVE each other, okay?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to add this chapter tonight, but I remembered last second. Its another Tim chapter but I **promise** next one is Kon. I've sort of lost track of the timeline of this fic but honestly who cares it's Tim's 30th anniversary and he's still 17.

Now that he’d come out to Steph, things were starting to get a little better. Kate had been so happy for him coming out to someone that she’d bought rainbow cupcakes from a little café she knew. They’d found a secluded spot in the manor and had a little celebration.

“Here’s to the future, kiddos,” Kate said, hoisting her cupcake up in a kind of salute/toast.

Steph laughed and held up her own cupcake. “To coming out of the closet,” she said.

“To  _ starting _ to come out of the closet,” Tim said, holding up his cupcake as well. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Everyone comes out at their own pace,” Kate said, peeling the paper away. “You’ve got lots of time kid.”

Tim nodded, glancing at the door once as he started to eat his cupcake. He didn't hear anyone in the halls, but that didn’t mean someone could sneak up on them. He’d come out to Steph and Kate, but the thought of anyone else finding out now unnerved him.

His own pace, Kate told him. He just hoped the universe would let him.

“So what’s next kid?” Kate asked, licking icing off of her fingers.

“Next?” Tim asked.

“You’ve come out to one person,” Kate said, “but do you know who you want to tell next? Are you going to make an announcement or tell people individually?”

Tim swallowed thickly. “I… hadn’t thought about it too much.”

Steph raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s surprising, you  _ always _ have a plan.”

Tim shrugged. “I guess it’s been so crazy just getting to  _ this _ point, where I’m comfortable admitting it to  _ myself _ , much less other people, that I hadn’t really thought about what was going to come next,” he explained.

“Well, like I said,” Kate said, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder, “everyone has their own pace. Just remember that we’re here to help you through it now.”

“Yeah, we’re both in your corner Tim,” Steph said, leaning into his other side. “No matter what.”

Tim smiled, relaxing as though he could feel their support wash over him. “Thanks guys.”

“You’re welcome kid,” Kate said. She flopped back against the arm of the couch they were sitting on. “For now you can just focus on accepting yourself. That’s really the biggest thing.”

Tim nodded; he was slowly chipping away at the walls and barriers in his own head. Accepting the fact that he was gay was one thing, but being comfortable with it was a whole new beast. He still remembered how distant his mother had been, how she’d screamed at him after she’d caught him kissing the gardener’s son. He remembered flinching inside every time his father had made a joke about ‘fags’. Logically Tim knew that no one in the family would yell at him for being gay—they were fine with Kate after all—but he couldn’t completely stamp out the fear.

Kate had given him tips, given him a few starter resources to help him, and Tim had thrown himself into the research. It all made so much sense on paper, but actually internalizing it was proving to be incredibly difficult. Tim knew there was no getting around it, eventually he was going to have accept the fact that he was gay and learn to be happy with that.

Otherwise he would drive himself insane.

Not that the rest of his life wasn't doing its best to do that already. Tim had stubbornly refused to speak to Dick unless the first words out of his mouth were' I'm sorry', which so far hadn't happened. Even Bruce was starting to worry about them, though he didn't show it. Alfred had put in a little more effort.

"Good evening Master Tim, you're home late," Alfred said, looking up from the dishes as Tim came into the kitchen.

"I've been away from WE for too long," Tim said, heading straight for the fridge. "There was a lot I needed to catch up on."

Alfred hummed and put the last of the silverware on the rack to dry. "I'm afraid there wasn't much for leftovers tonight and I just cleaned out the refrigerator. Shall I make you something for a late dinner?"

"I can probably scrape something together for myself Alfred," Tim said, smiling.

"Most certainly Master Tim, however I cannot help but remember the last time you attempted cooking, and I  _ did  _ just clean everything," Alfred said, drying his hands and gesturing to the spotless kitchen with the towel.

Tim laughed. "Alright Alfred, you win. Don't bother with anything fancy though. A sandwich should do."

"Very well Master Tim," Alfred said, the corner of his moustache twisting up in amusement.

In a few minutes, Alfred had produced a sandwich and two cups of tea, deciding to sit with Tim for a moment before he headed down to the Cave for the night.

"I'm pleased to see you're recovering, Master Tim," Alfred said. "You were starting to worry me dear boy, and in a house such as this one, I have more than enough to worry about."

Tim swallowed his bite of sandwich. "Sorry Alfred, it's been... difficult lately. Because of my spleen," he said quickly. "My immune system is just shot."

"Yes, it's no small thing to have such an organ removed," Alfred said.

"I'll try to be more careful in the future, I promise," Tim said, feeling a bit like a heel for not telling the whole truth to Alfred.

Alfred sighed. "We will all need to be careful. Herd immunity works best if the whole herd works together," he said, then smiled. "Though I suppose it might be more prudent to call this 'flock' immunity."

Tim laughed. "Probably. What's a group of bats called?"

"A ‘colony’ Master Tim," Alfred said.

"That probably works too," Tim said. He finished up his sandwich and sipped at his tea, content for the moment.

They sat together for a while, enjoying the quiet of the house as everyone else was probably getting ready downstairs. Tim took a minute to just breathe, enjoy the food, the tea, and the company. He still had to get ready to go out with the others, but it could wait.

Eventually the tea was gone and there was no reason to dally any longer. Still, Tim stayed in the kitchen as Alfred cleaned their dishes.

"You needn't escort me Master Tim, I know my way around," Alfred said.

"I know Alfred, but I like walking with you," Tim said.

"I'm truly honoured Master Tim," Alfred said, half teasing and half genuine. He set the second teacup on the dishrack and paused. "Master Tim, I realize things haven't been... that things have been difficult for you lately, but I can't help but think that you could save yourself a lot of grief if you and Master Dick—"

"Dick knows what he needs to do," Tim cut him off, forgetting his manners for a moment.

Alfred gave a deep sigh. "Master Tim, I know you're still upset about all that happened, but you mustn't continue to hold a grudge."

Tim groaned and rubbed his forehead. "I know," he said. "Trust me, I  _ want  _ to forgive Dick, but I'm sick of hearing excuses. I want him to say he's sorry and  _ mean  _ it."

Alfred sighed again. "Master Dick has made some...  _ questionable  _ choices as of late, but you cannot doubt that it was never his intention to ostracize you from your own home," he said, laying a hand on Tim's shoulder. "He loves you very deeply, and he misses you very much."

"I know he does," Tim said, leaning into Alfred's touch, "but I'm standing my ground this time. He wants to talk, then he can come to me and do so."

Alfred looked sad but understanding. "Very well sir," he said, giving Tim's shoulder a squeeze. "Should you ever need someone to mediate, I would be glad to do so."

Tim smiled. "I appreciate it Alfred," he said.

Alfred smiled back and gave Tim's shoulder one last pat before they headed down to the Cave. When they got there, Batman was working at the computer, but Nightwing and Robin had left for the night together. Tim tried not to let the sting linger.

Tim quickly suited up and headed out, once again on his motorcycle. He was getting better about swinging alone, but tonight he figured he'd need the mobility. Red Robin had been tracking leads on a small drug peddling ring that was cutting their drugs with all kinds of nasty things and sending people to the hospital. Most larger drug rings didn't bother with this kind of thing, because while it could cut costs, it lowered the quality of the product by a fair margin and, more importantly, sent people to the hospital or worse. It wasn't good business to kill off your consumers. This smaller drug ring didn't seem to care much, and several people had died already.

The problem with  _ catching  _ smaller drug rings was their size; they could disband and move at a moments notice, making them extremely slippery. This particular ring had been evading Batman for months, slipping in and out of the cracks in the city, but Red Robin was confident he almost had their number. All he needed to do was get a lock on their next hidey-hole and he could lay a trap.

And he knew just the person he could squeeze for information.

Getting ahold of Red Hood was unsurprisingly difficult. Batman had become aware of his return to the city by now, and so far Red Hood had managed to stay one step ahead of his attempts to find him. Red Robin had mostly either run into Red Hood by accident or been found by Red Hood instead. Trying to actually  _ find  _ him was proving to be more complicated, but luckily Red Robin was one of the world's best detectives.

That and he'd followed Red Hood one night from a distance to find his hideout.

Red Robin carefully stowed his bike a few blocks from the building Red Hood was hiding in, then carefully made his way closer. No doubt Red Hood had a tight security system and booby traps rigged to blow him sky high if he made a wrong step. He had to be careful he didn't alert Red Hood either, as Jason would most certainly spook and disappear if he thought he was about to be discovered by any of the Bats.

It took nearly an hour, but Tim was finally on the edge of the building where he'd seen Red Hood crawl through a window. Slowly, Red Robin crept along the wall towards the window, on high alert for any traps under his feet or in the window. He only nearly missed the shadow above him, but was completely unprepared when it grabbed him by the ankle and swept him into the air.

Tim yelped as he was suddenly suspended upside down over the street. He reigned in his first instinct to kick out and attack and instead got a better look at his attacker. It took him a moment to process what he was looking at—being upside down and all—but he recognized the person now holding him aloft.

"Starfire?" he asked, bewildered.

"Red Robin," Starfire answered. "You shouldn't be here."

In that moment, the window opened and two bodies leaned out; one pointed an arrow at him, the other started to point a gun, then stopped.

"Red Robin?" Jason called, only wearing his mask. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh you know," Tim said, waving a hand around, "just hanging out."

Arsenal snickered and Tim could see Jason roll his eyes under his mask. Starfire's gripped tightened minutely. "Shall I drop him off somewhere?" she suggested.

"No," Jason said with a groan, "let him in."

Starfire carefully brought Red Robin to the window ledge, letting him scramble inside. Roy helped get him upright again and smiled at him. "Hey kid, how've ya been?"

"Fine," Tim said, smiling back. He'd always liked Roy, ever since his Robin days. It was nice to see him again.

"If you're here to try and bring me in, you can forget it," Jason growled, crossing his arms and standing at his full height. "You're way out muscled and there's no way you can call backup in time for us not to throw you out that window."

Red Robin looked up at him. "I'm not here to bring you in," he said.

"Oh really?" Jason growled, looming over Red Robin, attempting to intimidate him.

"Yes,  _ really _ ," Tim huffed, shoving Jason back. "I need information, I'm not here to rat you out."

Jason looked a little startled to be shoved so casually. "Oh," he said, "what information?"

Red Robin relayed what he knew about the drug ring. "You're a little closer to the ground than we are. I was hoping you might have heard something."

Jason hummed. "Think I might have," he said, "but why should I tell you?"

"Because I'll tell Batman where you are if you don't?" Red Robin said, grinning a little.

Jason growled. "Blackmail, really? Starfire, throw him out."

"I know you care about the people this is hurting," Tim said, before Starfire could grab him. "I know you've already shaken down a few ground agents, but people are still dying from these drugs. You want them off the streets as much as I do."

Starfire grabbed hold of Tim's arm and was about to toss him (probably literally) out the window when Jason sighed. "Stop, don't—don't chuck him."

"Are you sure?" Starfire asked, keeping her iron grip on Red Robin's arm. It would have been easier to just cut his arm off than escape.

"Let him go," Jason groaned, rubbing his forehead. He pulled off his mask and tossed it away, then turned to glare at Tim. "What makes you think I need your help anyway?"

Red Robin carefully stepped out of Starfire's grip. "We've got the resources you don't," he said, "and the GCPD on our side. If you help me, I can make sure the people behind this ring spent a long time behind bars where they can't hurt any innocent people."

"Unless they lawyer up and wiggle out of it," Jason grumbled. "My way gets them off the streets for good."

"Jason," Roy said gently, stepping forward.

Jason hissed something, but Roy reached him anyway and leaned in to whisper something into his ear. Jason frowned but relaxed his shoulders slightly. He growled something back to Roy, but eventually rolled his eyes.

"Fine!" Jason said, throwing up his arms. "I'll help you, but don't think this comes for free."

"Of course not," Tim said, failing to hide his grin. He followed Jason through the room towards a discarded laptop. It was then that he noticed it was less like a lair and more like a living room. There was a TV with some Netflix show paused on it against one wall, with a coffee table filled with drinks and pizza in front of a beaten up couch.

"Movie night?" Tim asked, genuinely curious.

"Something like that," Jason said, clicking through the laptop, keeping it tilted so Tim couldn't see what he was doing.

_ Talking _ , Tim remembered. He said nothing else about it, focusing instead on getting the information. Roy and Starfire sat down on the couch, but didn't turn the TV on, waiting for Jason.

Eventually Jason produced a list of addresses, sites that a few of the top members of the group owned either through proxies or aliases. He printed out the list and handed it over to Red Robin.

"This is what I got," he said. "I knocked a few skulls around until someone coughed up how they moved around so fast, then knocked a few more skulls until I got the names. Some of these have already been used, but there are a few that haven't and are the likely next spots they'll hole up in."

Red Robin scanned the list. "Best play would be to flush them out and set a trap," he said.

"If you can cover all of the bases, sure," Jason said. "It would take a lot of manpower to get all the spots."

Red Robin grinned. "Which is where the GCPD comes in handy," he said. He held out his hand. "Thanks for the assistance, I really do appreciate it.”

Jason grumbled something and took Tim’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Yeah well, you owe me now. Don’t think I won’t cash in on it.”

“Of course,” Red Robin said. He tucked the sheet of paper into his belt and went to the window. He stopped when he was about to swing out. “I won’t tell Batman where you’re hiding. I promise.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, incredulous.

“Really,” Tim said. “He won’t even know I was here.”

“You think you can pull it off?” Jason asked.

Tim snorted. “Please, I’ve been lying to Batman for ages. He won’t find anything I don't want him to.”

Jason laughed. “You’ve got some stone kid,” he said. “Now get out of here before I shoot you.”

Tim rolled his eyes and slipped out of the window. Roy waved from the couch. “See ya kid! Don't be a stranger!” he called.

Red Robin gave one last little wave before firing a grapple and leaping from the building. On of the corner of his eye he was sure he saw Jason flop down onto the couch between Kori and Roy and snuggle into the both of them. For a split second it looked like Roy leaned in for a kiss, but Tim couldn't be sure.

Red Robin headed back to the Cave. He’d need to verify the information Jason had given him was good; not that Tim thought Jason would try to pull one over him, but it would be foolish not to make double sure. He took the long way back, taking out a couple of carjackers on the way, and when he arrived back at the Cave, Batman was at the computer again. He must have gone out, his suit was scuffed up, but it was apparently a slow night and he’d come back to do computer work. Red Robin parked his bike and came up beside him.

“I’ve got a list of potential hiding spots for that drug ring that’s been giving us trouble,” he said without preamble. He fished the list out of his belt and held it out.

Batman turned and took the list, scanning it briefly. “Where did you get this intel?” he asked.

“New source,” Red Robin replied easily. “Kinda skittish, I promised not to mention anything about them.” The best lie was the truth nudged slightly to the left.

Batman gave a hum and handed the list back, then tapped at the computer to free up a couple monitors for Red Robin to use and went back to his own work. Red Robin pulled up a chair and started working, side by side with Batman.

It didn't take long for the data to check out as legitimate. Jason had done good work, and all Tim really had to do was cross out the properties that had already been used and research the remaining ones. By the end of it, he had a solid base of information. Enough to probably catch these guys red handed.

"Good work Red Robin," Batman said after reviewing the information Red Robin had collected. "We'll alert the GCPD, but keep an eye on it just in case."

"We should probably try to scope out at least one of the potential sites," Red Robin said, "I'd say the site at the docks is the most likely spot, but the site in the old paper printing plant would be the most complicated for the police to handle. All the others I feel are less likely and fairly easy for the police to cover."

"I'd say you'd be right," Batman said, the corner of his mouth twitching up just the barest amount.

"I'll let you head the charge on this Red Robin," Batman went on. "All of us will follow your lead."

Tim felt a spike of nervousness. "Even you?" he asked.

Batman nodded. "Even me," he said. Bruce laid a hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed. "You're a good leader Tim, an amazing tactician, and the most brilliant detective I know. I trust you Tim."

Tim couldn't help the swell of pride that always came with praise from the Batman himself. Bruce smiled a little more and reached up to ruffle Tim's hair. "You'll do fine Tim, we'll all be there to support you."

Tim couldn't help a laugh escaping as he swatted Bruce's hand away. They spent the rest of the morning going over potential strategies. True to his word, Bruce let Tim take the lead, listening to his plans and then helping him refine them. By the time morning was crawling around, they'd come up with a few solid plans.

"I think that's enough for the night," Bruce said, standing up and stretching. "Time to get some rest."

"I think I've almost got it," Tim said, still hunched over his work. "Just a few more minutes."

Bruce grumbled something and reached down to scoop all of their scattered plans into a file folder. "Go to sleep," he ordered.

Tim grumbled right back at him, but reluctantly got up to get ready for bed. He'd been sleeping better as of late, but he was still tossing and turning most nights. Hopefully he was tired enough to fall right to sleep this morning.

Tim tried to fall into bed, but his brain wouldn’t go quiet. He kept coming back to what he’d seen at Jason’s place earlier. Roy and Kori and Jason had all seemed so… comfortable with one another. None of them had been in uniform, only casual clothes. The way Roy had calmed Jason down, spoken so soft and gentle to him, and the kiss… had they kissed? Tim was already swinging away, he couldn't reasonably be sure he’d seen them kiss, but they’d obviously been close. Tim thought about how different Jason had been from before, when he’d first shown back up in Gotham. He left the city and gone around the world hanging out with Starfire and Arsenal, and when he came back he’d seemed so much more stable,  _ better _ .

Thoughts chased themselves around in Tim’s head until he found himself on his balcony, finger hovering over the ‘call’ button.

It had been weeks since they'd spoken, the last time Tim ever hearing from him being the voicemail he'd gotten during his three day 'fever coma'. He'd also been avoiding his other friends, unable to face them with his head still so messed up. Tim had been making excuses to get out of Titan's work, to which everyone seemed understanding, but he could tell that his friends were starting to really worry about him. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone started asking questions, and then demand answers. Tim knew it he had to face them sooner or later.

And that meant facing Kon.

Since finally accepting his sexuality, Tim had revisited that night in Paris a few times, trying to figure it out. It was sort of obvious now, how in love he was with Kon, Tim was almost embarrassed that it had taken him this long to figure it out. He'd changed his colours to match Kon after his death, even though Bart and Steph had also died around the same time. He'd tried to clone Kon back to life, desperate to have something of him back. When he'd been stabbed in the desert, sure he was about to die, his last thoughts had ben about Kon, and how much he wanted to see him. All the years of arguing, hardship, friendship, all of it had come into a new light now that Tim knew how deep his feelings went.

It terrified him.

Paris had been a mistake. A really big, really bad, mistake, something that had the potential to ruin not only Tim's friendship with Kon, but also with Cassie and even Bart. Tim had traced the dates, stalked old social media posts, he knew that Kon and Cassie had gotten back together by the time Paris happened. It was new, but that didn't stop what they'd done from being wrong. The only reason Tim could think of as a reason for doing it was some sort of self-destruction. He'd been so desperate, so out of his mind with obsession and grief and confusion, all of it had bubbled up into a twisted desire to be destroyed by the person he couldn't admit he was in love with.

Tim could still remember Kon's hands on him, big and warm and strong. Tim had never known pleasure like that, even through the pain. Every moment had been amazing and awful; Tim had never come so hard in his life. Some nights it got him hot under the collar all over again, and he had to stop before he did something he felt too guilty about doing not to reach for his toolkit. Tim found himself wanting it again, wanting Kon to mark him,  _ hurt  _ him, until he was ruined and broken.

It scared him how much he wanted Kon, but the thought of losing Kon as his friend terrified him even more.

Tim's phone flashed the low battery alert. He'd been staring at it for so long he'd drained it's charge. The sky was starting to lighten the sky on the other side of the manor. If Kon was at the farm, he'd be a few hours behind Tim, but probably still up early for his chores, leaving his phone behind in his room. Even if he wasn't, he probably wouldn't hear his phone, heavy sleeper that he was. If Tim called now, he would most likely have to leave a voicemail.

Tim took a deep breath and pressed call.

The line rang once, and Tim was mentally scripting out what he was going to say in his voicemail. He'd just decided to maybe mention Paris during the second ring when it clicked over and connected.

_ "Tim? Hello? Are you there?" _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I've ended on a cliffhanger like this in this story yet. There's been some kinda cliffy endings here and there, but nothing like this lol. I didn't have much of a plan for this chapter but it ended up coming together pretty naturally. Also I'll probably notice whatever mistakes I made tomorrow and edit then goodnight y'all.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get Kon again! I swear I was going to do more for him sooner, but it really would have been just filler and I wasn't;t happy with that. Luckily for you this chapter ended up super long so it's getting split into two parts. I even had to delete a huge chunk from the middle of this where nothing really happened aside from a pathetic robot fight. I'm glad with how this turned out though, and I'm excited for the next chapter.
> 
> No triggers.

Kon woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. Groaning, Kon reached over and grabbed it, careful not to crush it, and looked at the caller ID. He smiled when he saw the name flashing on the little screen and pressed 'accept'.

"Hey Roxy, what's up?" he answered, sitting up to stretch.

_ "Heya kid, just checking in," _ Roxy said, voice muffled by the long distance call.

Kon chuckled. "Isn't it ass o'clock in the morning in Hawaii? What are you doing up?"

_ "I'm on the late beat, thought I'd spare a moment while I was on break,"  _ Roxy said.  _ "So how're things?" _

"Things are fine, good even," Kon said, looking around the room. "We finally finished decorating my new bedroom."

It had taken a few weeks to get Kon's room in Metropolis set up. Between painting, picking out furniture, and yelling at each other while trying to assemble said furniture, it had taken a few weeks, but now Kon had a functional space in Lois and Clark's apartment. He'd been surprised by the amount of difference it made when it came to how comfortable he was with them, both while he was over and when they were over at the farm. He and Clark were even working together a little more; Superboy and Superman had redirected a very lost and confused giant sea monster the other day, returning it to a concerned Aquaman to take home. It was nice; Kon was starting to feel like an actual part of Clark's life.

_ "That's great!" _ Roxy said.  _ "You'd been talking about this non-stop for like, months." _

"It hasn't even been a month," Kon huffed, "but it is really nice. You should visit."

_ "Sure, I'll pull the money for a vacation to Metropolis out of my ass for my next holiday," _ Roxy said, and Kon could almost see her rolling her eyes.

"I'll fly you out," Kon offered. "Air Superboy, at your services."

_ "We'll see,"  _ Roxy said with a laugh.  _ "Anyway, I've got to get going. Talk later alright?" _

"Sure, keep those streets safe," Kon said. They said their goodbyes and Kon tossed his phone onto the bed and stretched again.

It was the weekend, which meant that he was in Metropolis until tomorrow morning. He'd already spent yesterday hanging out with Lois and Clark; they'd gone out to the farmer's market, which lost its charm a little when Kon lived on an  _ actual  _ farm, but Lois had had fun. They'd gotten fish and made poke bowls for dinner, something Kon had missed from Hawaii. Every weekend they all tried to do something together, and each time Kon looked forward to it more and more.

The morning after The Dinner (which Kon had come to call it in his head), Clark had come home, looking all kinds of contrite. He'd apologized for his actions, then Kon had apologized, and they'd gone in circles until Lois told them to sit down and actually  _ talk  _ about their feelings. with a little encouragement (and some crepes), they'd managed to open up to one another.  _ Really  _ open up, spilling all the nasty things they'd been keeping from one another and getting them out in the open for the other to see.

"It was just so much to come back to," Clark said. "There was too much to process. I guess there were things I just... wanted to push away."

"Yeah it... I guess there really was a lot going on," Kon agreed.

Thinking back on it, the events around his 'birth' had been absolutely chaotic. Not only had the world been reeling from the (apparent) death of Superman, there had also been a string of vicious alien attacks, the emergence of a whole string of new villains and new heroes, and the disaster of Star City, along with several other crises all around the same time. It was no wonder Clark had compartmentalized a few things. Superboy, with his insistence of striking out on his own and seeming self-sufficiency, had really seemed like a non-issue, something Clark could forget about when it wasn't right in front of him.

Clark reached out and squeezed Kon's shoulder. "It doesn't excuse what I did Kon, I  _ should  _ have looked after you, but I... it— _ you  _ were a lot to take in."

Kon nodded. "Teenaged clone made from stolen DNA," he'd said, "no wonder you wanted to ignore my existence."

"Kon," Lois chastised from where she was sitting at the other end of the breakfast nook.

"No, he has a point," Clark defended. "I  _ did  _ want to ignore him. I wasn't ready to accept Kon as part of my life, much less as my son."

Kon breathed, trying to draw strength from Clark's hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes I don't really feel like your son," he admitted.

Clark squeezed his shoulder tightly. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I  _ want  _ to be your son, but I don't think I know  _ how _ ," Kon said. "I've always just been on my own, taking care of myself. I was never young enough to really need someone taking care of me. I'm just... I'm not used to this. I don't know how to  _ be  _ someone's son."

Clark squeezed Kon's shoulder again before curling around his back and pulling him into a tight hug. "I don't know either," he'd said, "but we're going to figure it out together, okay?"

Kon would never admit that he'd cried into Clark's arms, but seeing as he'd felt his own shoulder get wet, he didn't think Clark would rat him out.

Since then they'd both been trying harder with one another. It was neither easy nor smooth, but they were slowly working on acting like an actual family.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Kon hopped down from his bed and started searching for some pants. They'd opted for a loft bed with a desk underneath it to optimize the limited amount of space in the room. How both Lois and Clark had used it as an office at the same time was still a mystery to Kon.

It seemed like Kon was the first one awake that morning, so he got started on making breakfast. While Ma Kent was the ruler of the kitchen at the farm, in Metropolis Lois and Clark had the rule that whoever woke up first made breakfast, something that Kon had insisted he join in on. He wasn't much of a cook, but even he could manage fried eggs.

Kon was just finishing the first batch when Lois walked in. "Morning Kon," she greeted, stretching up to kiss his cheek.

"Morning Lois," Kon said, handing her a plate of eggs. She didn't take it, raising an eyebrow and grinning slightly at him. "I mean, morning Mom," he corrected, flushing a little.

Lois smiled brightly and took the plate of eggs. "Thank you," she said.

"Isn't that weird for you?" Kon asked, cracking another set of eggs into the pan. Clark would be awake soon.

"I mean,  _ yes _ , but we all have to make an effort," Lois said, starting on the coffee. "You're part of Clark's life, and that makes you part of my life. I'll get used to it."

Kon smiled, feeling something warm in his chest. He finished up the eggs and sat down at the table with Lois, pouring himself some fresh coffee.

"So what are we doing today?" Lois asked. "Anything in particular in mind?"

Kon shrugged. "Not really," he said. "I was thinking maybe just going for a walk around. We don't have to do something  _ every  _ weekend."

"That's true. Lazy Sundays in can be nice," Lois said wistfully. "Unfortunately, I have to work."

"Sucks to be you," Kon teased, grinning behind his coffee mug.

"You can be grounded brat," Lois teased back. "Anyway, you and Clark can have fun without me."

"I mean, we can try," Kon said.

"What are we trying?" Clark asked, finally shuffling into the kitchen. He scooped up his plate of eggs and the coffee Lois had prepared for him.

"To have fun without Lois since she's working today," Kon answered.

"Oh, well," Clark hummed, leaning down to kiss the top of Lois's head as he came around the table, "it'll be a challenge, but I think we'll be able to manage."

"Sap," Lois teased. "Anyway, you two have the day together, did you have anything in mind Clark?"

"I was thinking we could do some school shopping," Clark said. "You can impress all your friends in Smallville with your sick city clothes."

"No one says 'sick' anymore Clark," Kon said, forcing down a groan. "Why do you keep trying to be cool? You're not cool."

"I could be cool," Clark huffed, even as Lois patted his arm patronizingly.

Kon gave him a deadpan look. "So shopping," he said, changing the subject, "that could be fun. I've been thinking of getting another jacket."

"Another leather jacket?" Clark asked. "Like the one you used to wear?"

"Yeah," Kon said with a shrug. "I was moving some stuff around and I found it in the back of my closet. I still really like the look, but the old one doesn't fit anymore."

Clark hummed. "I think I know a few spots that will have something like that. Are you going to start wearing it for your uniform as well? People might get suspicious."

"My uniform right now is a t-shirt and jeans," Kon said, rolling his eyes. "If people were going to be suspicious, they would have done it already."

Clark hid a smile, trying not to be amused over such a serious topic. "Alright, fair point."

Kon sipped at his coffee. "I mean, I  _ have _ been thinking about updating my uniform."

"Oh?" Clark asked. "Anything in particular in mind?"

"Well no capes," Kon said, just to watch Clark look disappointed for a moment, "but maybe something like the old jumpsuit. I'll workshop some ideas."

"Well if you want any help with it, I'd be happy to come up with some ideas," Clark offered.

Kon hummed. "I don't know if I want fashion tips from the guy who wears his underwear on the outside."

Clark gave a long suffering sigh. "For the last time, it's not underwear, it's all sewn in one piece."

"But  _ why  _ though?" Lois asked. "I've never understood it."

"I based the original idea off of the classic wrestler and acrobat look from the early twentieth century. Stretch fabric hadn't been invented, so they wore shorts over the tights in case anything ripped. It also breaks up the colour scheme, so it's not so overwhelmingly blue," Clark explained.

"Still looks goofy," Kon said.

"This coming from the one who wears jeans and a t-shirt, I'm not that offended." Clark shot back.

"It's easily replaceable," Kon defended. "I rip up a shirt, 'oh no, it'll take me all of ten seconds to get another one.' How long does it take you to make a new cape whenever you trash one?"

"Alright boys," Lois said, cutting off whatever Clark's response was, "as riveting as all this is, I have to go to work."

"Alright, you need me to fly you over?" Clark offered, completely switching gears.

"I'm sure I can manage crossing the city without getting into mortal peril," Lois said, kissing Clark's cheek as she crossed to put her plate in the sink. She bent to kiss Kon's forehead when she passed him as well.

"Bye Lois," Clark said once she was leaving.

"Bye Lo—bye  _ Mom _ ," Kon said, still unable to help the slight flush in his cheeks. Ma Kent had been taking care of him for a while now, but there was something different about trying to think of Lois as his 'mom', or step mom he supposed.

"Alright," Clark said once it was just the two of them. "So we can either hit the shops early and get it all done at once, or we can waste time this morning and go out after lunch."

Kon pretended to consider it. "We could play video games?" he suggested.

A half an hour later saw the two of them sitting on the couch, the controller in Clark's hands as he directed a blonde wildman through the beautifully rendered mountains, chasing butterflies.

"Shouldn't you be doing the actual quest of the game?" Kon asked, watching Clark swing and miss for an orange butterfly.

"I did that already," Clark said. "Played the whole game through. Now I want to explore the world and collect all the stuff."

"But there's so much, it'll take forever for you to get it all," Kon said.

"Maybe," Clark said, swinging for the orange butterfly again, "but it's fun."

Kon hummed and continued watching Clark direct the wildman through the mountains. After a while Clark stopped chasing butterflies and just started running around for the sake of running around, making them both laugh at the antics on screen.

"You're just making him run around in circles now," Kon said through his laughter.

"There's a glitch around here somewhere," Clark said, "I'm trying to find it."

"Let me play for a bit," Kon asked, holding out his hand for the controller. Clark tossed it to him and Kon went down to the fields to try and catch a horse.

"The big black one? I think you have to work up to him," Clark said, watching Kon try to sneak up to the horses.

"Shh, I'm tryna concentrate," Kon said, focusing intently on keeping the little wildman out of sight of the horses. He'd almost reached them when they noticed him and took off running. "Damn it!"

Clark laughed at him and Kon swore and tried to sneak up on the horses again. He knew realistically he didn't have much of a chance at getting that particular horse, but he was determined and his pride was on the line.

“Alright, I can’t stand you watching you make a fool of yourself anymore,” Clark said through his chuckles. “Let’s go out and get some lunch.”

They wound up having lunch at a burger joint before heading out to do their shopping. Kon really only wanted a new leather jacket, but Clark insisted on a few new shirts and pants as well.

“So you can impress everyone at school,” Clark said when Kon tried to protest. “Everyone can be jealous of your nice city clothes.”

“You know that there’s this thing called online shopping right?” Kon said. “The kids at school just order stuff online, they don’t have to wear the stuff from the one outdated clothing store in town anymore like you did.”

“Mr. Dyck’s store is a cornerstone of Smallville,” Clark said. “I still drop by to say hi when I’m in town.”

Kon rolled his eyes. “Sure, but most kids don't really want to get all their clothing from a store that also doubles as a horse tackle and feed shop.”

Clark went quiet for a moment, stopping to watch Kon flip idly through a rack of sweaters. “You… do you  _ like _ living in Smallville?” he asked after a second.

Kon looked over, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, it’s fine,” he said. “The farm is nice, growing my own food is more fun than I was expecting.”

“Yeah?” Clark asked, looking a little more encouraged.

“Yeah,” Kon answered with a shrug. “It’s just… it’s small I guess.”

“Small?” Clark asked.

“Yeah like,” Kon said, trying to come up with the words. “There’s not much  _ room _ , if that makes sense. All the people in my class are either desperate to escape or resigned to stay. Aside from a few weird happenings here and there, there isn’t really anything exciting that happens. The big news last week was that someone flipped a tractor in their field.”

“But that’s nice isn’t it?” Clark insisted. “To get a break from all the crazy? In this big crazy world it’s nice to have those little pockets of calm.”

“Well  _ you _ left,” Kon said, “so it must not have been all that great for you either.”

Clark paused, eyebrows going up in surprise. He turned back to the rack of sweaters. "Yeah, I guess you have a point," he said quietly after a minute. "I forget sometimes what it was like, what it was  _ really  _ like. I'm always so happy to visit, I forget how living there can be."

"It's not  _ bad _ ," Kon said. "It's just, y'know," he shrugged a shoulder, "small."

Clark nodded. They lapsed into silence, each of them looking through the racks of clothes. Kon felt a little bad for being so frank. He didn't  _ hate  _ Smallville, it was actually quite nice, but he always felt like there was something else that he should be doing. It sometimes felt like he was constantly waiting for something to happen, for something to come to him when he should have been out looking for it.

"Kon," Clark asked after a minute, "would you rather live in Metropolis with me and Lois?"

Kon nearly dropped a pair of pants. "Uh, what?"

Clark cleared his throat. "Lois and I were talking about it, and we think we could make it work. It would be a little tricky with the school transfers and whatnot, but if you'd prefer to live in Metropolis with us... we wouldn't mind having you."

Kon stared at Clark, who had conveniently turned to inspect a display of gloves. He couldn't deny that he'd thought about it, living with Clark and being a larger part of his life. It was tempting to just say yes and move back to the bustling city, get out of the monotony of Smallville. At the same time, there had been a reason Clark had brought him to Smallville in the first place, not just to live with Ma and Pa, but to help teach him to be a normal person, someone who wasn't  _ always  _ Superboy. Wasn't that what he'd been trying to do, since coming back from the dead?

"No, that's alright," Kon answered finally. "I think the set up we have now works for the time being."

Clark looked up. "Really?"

Kon smiled. "Yeah, I mean, like you said, it'd be too weird to transfer schools right now, especially for my last year of high school."

"Alright," Clark said cautiously, "if you're sure."

"Yeah, pretty sure," Kon said. "I mean, yeah Smallville is boring, but it gives me a lot of time to think about stuff, you know? Figure myself out."

"I see," Clark said, "and what have you figured out so far?"

"Well, that I'm bisexual for one," Kon said, picking up a jacket he sort of liked. "And that I still have no idea what I want to do for my future."

"Really?" Clark asked. "There isn't anything you want to do?"

"There's lots I  _ want  _ to do," Kon said. "But it all revolves around doing what I'm already  _ doing _ . I want to keep being a hero, but I have no idea who I am outside of that. I didn't really even  _ choose  _ to be a hero," he said. "I was ready-made to be a hero right out of the box. No decision making required, wind me up and watch me go."

Clark chuckled. "I guess most people have more time to grow up than you've had," he said. "I guess we can take things a bit slower, let you figure out for yourself who you want to be."

Kon smiled. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer to live with you, I just... I think I need to stay in one place for a while longer."

"I understand," Clark said, smiling softly at Kon. "I'm proud of you for making such a mature decision."

Kon beamed, feeling warmth flood his chest. "Thanks," he said. He picked up a leather jacket from the rack. "What do you think of this?"

Clark scrutinized it. "A little plain maybe? I thought you preferred something with more... bling?"

Kon bit his tongue at the slang. "If you get a plain jacket, you can add the flourishes you want yourself later."

"Alright, if it's what you want," Clark said. "Were you going to get another one for your uniform?"

"Later maybe," Kon said, throwing the jacket over his arm. "I've still got to come up with an idea of what I want."

"Alright then," Clark said, moving them along to the checkout. "You know, if you don't want a full cape, a half cape like Shazam's could work."

"Ugh," Kon groaned, rolling his eyes.

They bought the jacket and a few other things, then—at Clark's insistence—headed to a craft store to pick up anything Kon might need to add 'flourishes' to his jacket. Kon was pretty sure he only needed an iron for the patches, but he figured he'd look around anyway. At the store Clark was quickly co-opted by a gaggle of old ladies asking him to bring down heavy objects from high places. Kon quickly wandered off, not wanting to get suckered into it as well.

Kon was examining some buttons when he felt a presence next to him. "Can I help you find anything?" came a chipper voice.

Kon looked up. The chipper voice belonged to a teenager, about his (physical) age, with dark hair and a bunch of silver piercings in his ears and bottom lip. He smiled up at Kon, something sparkling in his brown eyes.

"Oh, I was just browsing," Kon said, hating how awkward he got whenever service staff talked to him.

"Was there a project you had mind?" the boy's name tag read 'Adrian'.

"Well," Kon hummed. No point in wandering around the store hoping he stumbled on whatever he was looking for. "I was going to get some patches for my new jacket, but I was hoping for a bisexual pride flag. Do you have anything like that?"

Adrian grinned widely, showing slightly uneven teeth. "Sure, we've got some stuff. This way," he said, gesturing for Kon to follow him.

Kon followed Adrian to the back of the store where there was a bunch of pride items marked down for a sale. Kon had never seen so many rainbows in one place, it was a little eye searing.

"We have a bunch of stuff left over from pride," Adrian explained. "I think we have a few bi pride items left. I think the patches are back here. Did you want iron-on, stick on, or sew on?"

"Any should work," Kon said, following Adrian to where the patches were. There were several patches in a little tray, most of them the traditional rainbow flag, but there were other kinds of colours and shapes.

"Is that everything then?" Adrian asked, turning to smile at Kon again.

"Yeah, thanks for your help," Kon said, smiling back, then bending to search through the patches.

Adrian lingered for a moment. "Yeah, the store owners have like, a trans daughter or something, so they always overstock everything for pride."

"Oh, that's neat," Kon said.

"It's actually really nice. I get all my stuff here," Adrian said.

"Your stuff?" Kon asked.

Adrian grinned his uneven grin and pulled his apron to the side, showing off the little rainbow button pinned to his shirt. He fluttered his lashes up at Kon, and Kon could feel his cheeks heat up a little.

He was being flirted with.

"Oh!" he said, suddenly not in control of the volume of his voice. "That's uh, neat."

_ Neat _ . Sweet jeezus.

Adrian laughed. "I noticed you when you walked in and was hopeful. Just my luck, right?"

Kon managed a chuckle. "Sure, yeah, I guess."

"You have a boyfriend?" Adrian asked.

"No," Kon answered.

"No?" Adrian asked, eyes lighting up. "That's surprising, I would have thought someone would have snatched you up fast."

"Oh well, I live in a small town most of the time, I'm just visiting my dad in the city," Kon said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not really a lot of out guys in Hicksville in the middle of nowhere."

"You must be lonely," Adrian said, stepping a bit closer.

"Not really, I have a lot of good friends, they're very supportive," Kon said.

Adrian hummed then glanced at his watch. "I have to get back to work, but if you want, I'm going to a party later tonight. You should come."

Kon felt his face heat. A party. The last party he'd been to had been held in a barn. Did he even know how cool city parties worked any more? "Sure, why not?" he said. It's not like he needed to sleep. He could make it back to Smallville in time for class.

Adrian beamed and reached into his pocket for a marker. He grabbed Kon's wrist and scribbled a phone number. "This is me," he said. "My shift get's off at eight, you can text me then."

"Alright," Kon said, noticing Adrian's hand linger on his wrist. "I might text a bit later, I'm having dinner with my parents."

"Party starts at ten," Adrian said, then rattled off an address. He turned and started walking away, but not without tossing a flirty look over his shoulder. "Hope I see you there," he called, then disappeared down an aisle.

Kon stared after Adrian, wondering what had just happened. Since coming out, Kon hadn't really done much. He was the only out kid at school, and other than that he mostly spent time with the Titans, none of whom were really lining up to date him (save Cassie but that was its own Thing™). He'd never really been flirted with by a guy before, and Kon had found himself floundering. He was so used to flirting first, being the initiator, that he hadn't really known what to do.

"Hey, there you are," Clark said, appearing from nowhere. "Did you find what you need?"

Kon hid his palm. "Yeah, I think so," he said. He shifted through the basket of patches and found a bi pride patch. "Let's go."

"Alright," Clark said starting to walk with Kon back to the front of the store. He paused by a rack of T-shirts and picked one up. "Hey, check it out."

Kon looked back to see Clark holding up a shirt that read in big bold letters, 'I heart my bi son,' grinning brightly. Kon immediately felt the dread creep up on him. "Please don't," he begged, knowing it would do nothing.

"I'll get one for Lois as well," Clark said, rummaging through the rack of shirts. "Maybe they have one for grandmas so Ma can have one."

Kon groaned and fought the urge to slam his head through the nearest wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to have the next part be part of this chapter, but this was getting long even with the huge cuts I made. We're going to get to Tim eventually!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again friends! This chapter ended up really long. I feel like it's clunky in some spots but there was too much that I wanted to include and hated taking out. It's probably not the chapter with the best flow but I want to get this posted because we're closing in on the good shit I want to write.
> 
> Trigger warning for underage drinking (if you're in the USA), questionable consent, mentions of a school shooting/bomb threat, and homophobic slurs.

Kon didn't end up texting Adrian until almost nine, dinner with Clark and Lois running late. He'd decided not to tell them about Adrian or the party, not wanting to give them more fodder to embarrass him. He also didn't want to get a lecture about going out to parties on school nights. Kon made some excuse about having forgotten some homework to leave early and flew out to meet Adrian at the specified address. The party didn't start until ten, so Kon flew in lazy circles over the city for a while, keeping an ear out in case Superman decided to make an appearance.

Metropolis was bright with glowing lights, bustling with evening life, everyone scurrying to get the last of their errands done before heading home, or heading out to the bars after work for a drink. By this time in Smallville the streets would have been empty, deserted aside from one or two night owls out for a late stroll.

As Kon was flying he was struck by a sudden sense of deja vu. It took him a moment to place it; he was flying over the first area of Metropolis he'd ever stayed in. He swooped low and found the rooftop he'd slept on for the first week of his life.

It was odd to think about, but when Kon had been 'born' he'd been essentially homeless and alone. He'd escaped his test tube and dove headfirst into the world with no one at his back aside from maybe the Newsboys, who were all children themselves. Kon—'Superman' at the time—had slept on the streets and found food wherever he went from grateful rescuees. How had he thought that was an alright way to live? How had anyone thought it was alright to  _ let  _ him live that way?

Kon sat down on the ledge he used to sleep on. He'd been extremely lucky to have been born in the summer, when the stone and concrete held onto the daytime heat throughout the night. Not that Kon would have been affected by the cold all that much, but it wouldn't have been comfortable. Maybe if he had been born in winter someone might have asked more questions about where he was laying his head at night.

There were still a few minutes before Kon had to head to the party. He dug his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts for a moment. He settled on a name and tapped 'call'.

As usual, the phone barely had a chance to ring before it picked up.  _ "Hey Kon! What's up?" _

"Hey Bart," Kon said, smiling. "How're you?"

" _ I'm good, what about you?" _ Bart asked.  _ "You need me to zip over and help out with anything?" _

"No no, nothing like that," Kon said. "I was just thinking."

_ "Did it hurt?" _ Bart asked, sniggering.

"Asshole," Kon huffed, but he was smiling too. "I was just thinking... you ever wonder what it would be like?"

_ "Like what?"  _ Bart asked.

"What it would be like to be normal," Kon asked.

Bart paused, likely stunned.  _ "I mean, I don't think I'd know  _ how _ to be normal. I've never known anything but crazy." _

"Yeah but you would have grown up normal," Kon pointed out. "No test tubes, no time travel, no  _ dying _ . We'd have normal parents, normal friends, a normal childhood, an  _ actual  _ childhood. Going to school, worrying about homework and dates that don't involve fighting space aliens. Just... a normal life."

Bart was quiet for a long moment.  _ "Sometimes," _ he admitted,  _ "but only in passing. I mean, we didn't get to choose this, but really who does? No one chooses to exist, it's just like, forced on us, no matter who we are." _

"I guess that's true," Kon said.

_ "What would you choose?" _ Bart asked.  _ "If you could choose between this life and a normal life, would you be normal?" _

Kon considered it. "I don't know," he answered after a while. "I mean, I like my life, I like being Superboy, but I can't help but wonder what it's like."

Bart hummed. _ "Well, you know we'd love you anyway, right? Normal or not?" _

Kon smiled. "Yeah I know Bart. I love you too."

They talked for a few more minutes before saying their goodbyes. Kon stored his phone and looked up at the night sky. The amount of light pollution in the city meant that, despite it being a clear night, there were almost no stars in the sky. In Smallville it felt like he could drown in the stars on clear nights. No matter the season, on clear nights Kon would sit up on the roof of either the barn or the house to stargaze. It was his favourite thing about living in Smallville.

With a sigh, Kon leapt off the edge of the building, letting himself fall for a second before taking off into the air. He spared a glance back to the spot he'd been sitting, the first place he'd ever rested his head to sleep, then sped off over the city.

Kon landed a few blocks down from the address where the party was being held and then walked the rest of the way. The neighborhood seemed nice enough, affluent and safe. The worst crime in this neighborhood was probably bike theft. Kon wondered what life must be like for the people in these homes, where the biggest worry was what was going to be on the test the next day.

The party was audible before it was visible, already in full swing despite apparently having just started. Kon wondered if he should have stopped to bring something. When Kon finally got to the house, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he shouldn’t have come. He didn't know any of these people aside from Adrian, and he really didn't know Adrian either. Maybe there was still time to bail?

“Conner!” someone called. Adrian trotted up the sidewalk towards Kon, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Kon smiled back. “Thanks for inviting me,” he said. So much for bailing.

Adrian beamed harder and wrapped his arms around Kon’s, tugging him towards the house. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends,” he said.

Kon let himself be dragged along, starting to relax. He could do this, it was just a party. He used to love parties. All the noise and people used to be so fun, and Kon had thrived on attention. Maybe he could find that in him somewhere again.

Adrian led him through the packed houses, deftly avoiding the other rowdy high schoolers until they got to a couch in the living room that had been commandeered by a colourful group of kids. Literally colourful—three of them had brightly dyed hair and the other two were decked out in rainbows. Adrian, with his black hair and black outfit, was the most monochromatic of all of them.

“Hey guys, this is the guy I was telling you about,” Adrian said, pulling Kon forward and snuggling into his side a little.

Kon waved awkwardly. “Hey, I’m Conner,” he said. God why was this so weird? He used to be good at this.

A teenager of indeterminate gender with purple hair looked Kon up and down in a way that made Kon feel a little hot under the collar. “Hi there,” they purred.

Adrian glared at her. “Back off Kel, I saw him first,” he said, squeezing Kon’s arm a little tighter. “Besides, he doesn't even swing for your team.”

Kel rolled their eyes. “Whatever Adrian,” they said, then turned back to Kon. “So I’m Kel, this is Raleigh, Marvin, Sarafina, and Ollie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Conner said. Marvin scooted over on the couch to let him sit, but he was still pretty squeezed between him and the dark skinned girl with the bright pink cloud of hair, Sarafina.

“I love your hair,” Kon said, unable to help it. “It looks like cotton candy.”

Sarafina smiled brightly, showing off the cute gap in her teeth. “Thanks,” she said, voice softer than he’d imagined from someone with such a loud style.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Adrian asked, pouting and tapping his foot.

“Sit on the coffee table, wheenie,” Kel said, rolling their eyes. Kon got the feeling that these two were the Queen Bees of the group.

Adrian looked like he was about to kick up a fuss, so Kon made a decision. “Hold on,” he said, then scooped Sarafina up and placed her on his knee, then tugged Adrian to sit down on his other knee. “There, now we all fit.”

Adrian squeaked while Kel burst out laughing. Sarafina laughed and settled against him after a moment. “You’re really strong,” she said.

“Thanks, I do a lot of work on my Ma’s farm,” Kon explained.

“What do they feed you on the farm?” Marvin asked, reaching over to poke Kon’s arm. “I’ve seen football players skinnier than you.”

“Well, it’s mostly just that the food is really fresh,” Kon explained. “We eat a lot of seasonal things. Right now it’s squash season and I’m up to my ears in spaghetti squash casserole.”

Everyone laughed and Kon felt himself relax. In Smallville he really only had Simon and Lori to hang out with, so it was nice to meet new people again.

They continued chatting for well over an hour, Kon getting to know everyone. He learned that Adrian and his friends were the only group of ‘out’ students in their school. There were probably others, but they weren’t quite as loud as them.

“We sort of banded together to keep each other safe,” Raleigh explained. “It got kind of scary for a while, especially after Ollie started transitioning.”

“That must have been tough,” Kon said. “No one really bothered me when I came out. I don’t think they cared really.”

“It’s probably because you look like you could fold everyone in this room in half without breaking a sweat,” Marvin said. “People are less inclined to mess with you if you’re bigger than they are.”

“Is that why you keep me around?” Raleigh asked, leaned down to smack a kiss against Marvin’s cheek.

“I keep you around for a lot of reasons,” Marvin said, leaning back against Raleigh. “That’s only like, forty-five percent of the total reasons.”

“Ugh, you two are so gross,” Adrian complained, throwing himself dramatically against Kon’s chest. “Throwing your relationship around. Have pity on us poor single people.”

“Jealous much?” Kel teased, grinning like a shark. “Maybe Conner can take you out on a date.”

“Now  _ that’s _ an idea,” Adrian said, looking up at Kon and batting his eyelashes.

Kon flushed and laughed awkwardly. “I don't know how ready I am to date anyone,” he said, “I just broke up with my girlfriend a while ago.”

A chorus of sympathetic ‘aww’s went around and Kon quickly waved them away. “No no, it wasn't bad, we’re still friends,” he explained. “It’s just that she has stuff going on and I’ve been going through some stuff as well. She’s really great, honestly.”

“But you figured out you prefer guys?” Adrian asked, smirking slightly.

Kon frowned. “I mean, I like girls too. I’m bi, not gay,” he said.

Adrian hummed noncommittally. Out of the corner of his eye, Kon though he saw Kel roll their eyes. “We should get drinks!” Adrian said, suddenly hopping up and tugging at Kon’s wrist. “Come on, come help me carry everything.”

“I’ll come too,” Kel said, sliding off the arm of the couch. “I need to stretch.”

Adrian pressed his lips together, but didn’t say anything as the three of them headed to the kitchen to find something to drink for everyone. They weaved their way through the house, Kon in front to cut a path so the others could follow behind him. The kitchen was filled with people, but it wasn't as crowded as the rest of the house. There was a tower of soda cans on the counter, which Kon headed for.

“So what does everyone want?” he asked, sorting through the cans.

“Diet Coke for Marvin, Diet Pepsi for Raleigh, Ginger Ale for Sarafina, and Ollie won’t care,” Kel said. “Is there any Sprite?”

“There’s Seven Up,” Kon said, holding up the can. “Adrian, what do you want?”

Adrian scoffed. "Something a little stronger," he said, reached for the bottles on top of the fridge that Kon hadn't noticed right away. He pulled down a bottle of vodka and went for the stack of red solo cups on the counter.

"Whoa now," Kon said, reaching out to take the bottle away. "Last I checked eighteen wasn't the legal drinking age."

Adrian pulled the bottle away. "So? It's a party, it's practically  _ expected  _ that we'll drink. Why do you think they left the bottles out in the open?"

"Isn't it a school night?" Kon asked, wondering if he shouldn't just take the bottle away.

"Pfft, no," Adrian said. "Some idiot came to school with a gun and tried to shoot a teacher, so it's shut down until the investigation is done."

"Geez, was anyone hurt?" Kon asked.

"No, nobody got hurt," Kel said. "The kid got caught by the security guards and was detained without a fuss. The only reason they shut the school down was because he said he planted bombs around the school."

"Man, I didn't even hear anything about it," Kon said. "My dad and step mom are both reporters and they never said a word. I didn't think that kind of stuff happened here."

Adrian scoffed again, already pouring a finger of vodka into the bottom of his cup. "Everyone likes to pretend that Metropolis is some sort of beacon of virtue, but it's just as much of a shithole as places like Gotham or Bludhaven. The only difference is the big blue asshole making us all feel better about ourselves."

Kon knew it wasn't funny, but he had to stifle a laugh. "He is a bit self-righteous sometimes," he admitted.

"People are so annoying about it too," Adrian said, cracking a can of Coke open and pouring it into his cup. "Acting like just living here makes us better than other people."

"Adrian's just salty because his dad was working for Lexcorp when Superman busted Lex Luthor," Kel explained. "A couple of people at school were kinda shitty about it."

"My dad was an accountant on a whole team of accountants who handled like, a  _ sixth  _ of the accounts at Lexcorp," Adrian growled, taking a swig of his drink. "He never did anything wrong, but people want to act like he personally killed babies and drowned kittens."

Kon felt his stomach twist, wondering what Adrian would think of him if he knew the truth. "I'm sorry, that must have been awful."

Adrian shrugged. "Whatever, it's not like the kids at school weren't already bullying me for being a fag anyway." He took another swig of his drink and started walking out of the kitchen. "I'm going outside for some air."

Kon stared after him, wondering if he should follow. He'd never really thought about the people on the ground when it came to those big busts, the ripple effects that must have radiated out. Of course it was all well and good to put a corrupt megalomaniac with a God complex and enough money to actually do something about it behind bars, but what did that spell for the little people caught in the crossfire?

Kel had busied themself putting ice and drinks into cups. "Don't worry about Adrian, he'll be fine," she said.

"He seemed pretty upset," Kon said, picking up a sharpie and writing names on cups.

"He's  _ fine _ ," Kel said, rolling their eyes. "He does this all the time with the guys he likes. He'll pretend to get upset over something or other and then wander off 'to be alone' hoping the guy will follow him."

Kon gave a rueful smile. "He has been flirting with me pretty hard."

Kel smiled up at him. "Well, you are pretty cute," they said.

"Thanks," Kon said, giving her a winning grin. "So are you bi as well? I saw the way you were eyeing up these guns." He gave an exaggerated flex.

Kel laughed and nudged him. "I consider myself pan actually, but it's more that I'm gender fluid."

"Oh yeah?" Kon asked. "That's where you just like, switch genders right?"

"Kinda," Kel said. "It more like I have more than one gender, and some days I feel like I'm at one end of the spectrum, other days I'm at the other end, but most days I'm somewhere in the middle."

"Interesting," Kon said. "I have no idea what that would feel like, but that's pretty cool."

"It's mostly just confusing," Kel said. "Adrian says I'll figure out what gender I want to be eventually, but he's always been an asshole about it. He understands Ollie better because Ollie 'just picked one'."

Kon hissed. "Ouch, that sucks," he said. "I noticed he didn't seem convinced that I was bi either."

"He's a jerk," Kel said. "He hasn't figured out that being gay and bitchy isn't a personality."

Kon snorted. "But you're still friends with him?"

"Well yeah," Kel said, "we're not going to just leave him to the wolves. We stick together. Hopefully he pulls his head out of his ass eventually, but we're not going to just abandon him."

Kon smiled. "That's nice of you," he said. He turned back to the drinks. "Is anyone else going to want alcohol in their drinks?"

"Only Raleigh, but if he wants some he can get it himself," Kel said. They scooped up a few drinks. "Let's get back to the couch."

Kon grabbed the rest of the drinks and followed them. He had to use his TTK at one point to keep from spilling the drinks all over himself as he was jostled by the crowd, but he managed to get back to the couch in one piece.

"Did Adrian storm off in a huff again?" Ollie asked as she sipped her drink.

"Ugh, yes," Kel groaned, flopping down on the arm of the couch again. "He needs to get his shit together."

Raleigh sighed. "And he wonders why I wouldn't date him. Such a drama queen."

"He'll be back in a few minutes," Marvin said, waving a dismissive hand.

At that moment, there was a commotion behind them. Kel turned to see what was going on and hissed. "Shit, Morris cornered him."

The others all whipped their heads around, tensing as though for a fight. Kon looked over to see that a group of what looked like football players had stopped Adrian near the back door and were harassing him. Kon was on his feet and making his way over in an instant.

"—just go away Morris," Adrian was saying, trying to slide across the wall and away from the group menacing him.

The kid who was presumably Morris slammed a hand to the wall to stop Adrian's escape. "Come on, don't be such a priss," he said, his boys chuckling behind him.

Adrian clenched his teeth, but Kon had reached them by now. "Alright, that's enough," he said, putting as much command as he could into his voice. Clark was way better at it, and Tim blew him out of the water, but Kon could be pretty authoritative if he put his mind to it.

Unfortunately Morris seemed to be too inebriated to be intimidated. Kon could smell the alcohol mixed with energy drinks on his breath from where he was standing. Morris glared at Kon, almost looking shocked for a second that someone would dare stand up to him.

"Who the hell are you?" Morris hissed, the words assaulting Kon's nose on a wave of artificial strawberry energy drink breath.

"I'm from out of town. Leave my friend alone," Kon said, stepping into Morris's space.

Morris had maybe a half inch on Kon, but was not quite as broad. He grinned and removed his arm from the wall, allowing Adrian to escape, and turned his full attention to Kon. "Well maybe you should go  _ back  _ to town," Morris said, laughing and looking back to make sure his buddies laughed along with him.

_ Wow this guy is a stereotype _ , Kon thought. "Leave my friends alone," he ordered.

Morris grinned viciously. "Yeah? You gonna make me leave the fags alone?" he jeered, going to shove at Kon's chest, but only managing to make himself stumble backward with the force. He recovered quickly, two of his buddies helping him back to his feet.

Kon narrowed his eyes and decided he'd been patient enough. "Alright, I think you need a time out," he said. He reached out and grabbed hold of Morris's jacket and lifted him off his feet.

"Hey! What the fuck?" Morris screeched, flailing around trying to dislodge himself. It was about as effective as using spitballs to deter a charging bull.

Kon carried Morris out the back door and threw him over the side of the deck, watching him land in some decorative—but thorny—bushes. Morris shrieked and flailed harder, only serving to sink himself deeper into the bushes. Several party goers leaned over the side to watch, laughing as Morris made a fool of himself. Kon turned to go back inside. Morris's buddies scrambled out of his way as he passed them.

"Holy shit!" Kel said, eyes gleaming brightly. "That was so awesome!"

"I told you! I told you!" Marvin said excitedly, jumping up and down.

"You okay?" Kon asked Adrian.

"I'm fine, thanks to you," Adrian purred, leaning into Kon's chest. He grabbed his wrist and tugged him along. "Come on! Dance with me!"

The rest of the night passed with relative ease, no one else bothering Kon or his new friends at all. Morris eventually extracted himself from the bushes, but even in his drunken state he was smart enough to know better than to challenge the guy who'd just tossed him around like a dirty shirt. So, scratched and bleeding, he limped off to some other part of the house and left them alone for the rest of the night.

It was late by the time the party was winding down. Kon insisted on making sure everyone got home alright, even though most of them didn't live very far away. Raleigh lived around the block and was just going to walk home. Marvin, Sarafina, and Kel all lived in the same area and Ollie was going to spend the night at Sarafina's, so they all bundled into an Uber.

"It was nice to meet you Conner," Kel said as they waited. "You're a pretty cool guy."

"Thanks, you're pretty cool too," he said, smiling down at them.

Adrian lived a few blocks in the other direction from Marvin, a good half an hour walk, and insisted that Kon walk him home. Kon let him cling to his arm as they walked, reasoning that Adrian had had a few drinks and it was better to let him cling than to fish him off the sidewalk if he tripped.

"I'm so glad I saw you at work today," Adrian said. "That was really cool what you did to Morris."

"I don't tolerate assholes," Kon said. "Jerks like that always pick fights they know they'll win. Being the bigger person can kiss my ass."

Adrian laughed loudly, probably disturbing whatever families were trying to sleep in the suburbia they were walking through. He leaned his head on Kon's shoulder. "Thank you," he said, suddenly soft. "No one's ever done anything like that for me."

Kon felt his face flush. Adrian was cool against him, but his hands were soft as they traced shapes on the inside of his wrist. They continued walking down the street until they arrived at a large two story house.

"This one's me," Adrian said. He looked up at Kon. "Where are you headed after this?"

Kon shrugged. "Home probably," he said, not mentioning that 'home' was in Kansas.

"Is anyone expecting you?" Adrian asked, pulling away a little. Kon noticed him shivering in the cold night air.

"Not really," Kon said. He kept odd hours anyway, so Ma would probably assume he'd just gotten caught up with something Super related, if she noticed at all.

Adrian grinned. "Want to come in for a bit?"

Kon looked up at the completely dark house. "Uh, what about your family?" he asked.

Adrian shrugged. "They probably won't notice. Mom's taking some heavy medication and lately Dad's been sleeping in his study on the first floor. They won't hear us."

Kon chewed the inside of his cheek, feeling bad for asking. "Alright," he said, caving. This was what he wanted wasn't it, to explore his sexuality?

Adrian grinned and reached out to grab Kon's hand, tugging him into the house. Despite his assurances that his parents wouldn't hear them, they snuck quietly through the house. Adrian led Kon upstairs and to his bedroom. The moment the door was closed, Adrian turned to Kon and kissed him.

Kon jolted a little in surprise, but quickly fell into step, wrapping his arms around Adrian and kissing back. Adrian hummed and squirmed against him, wiggling one hand around to push up Kon's shirt.

"Geez, it's like you're made of marble," Adrian whined into Kon's mouth. He dragged his nails lightly down Kon's abs, then rested his palm against his stomach.

Adrian pushed against Kon's stomach, directing him backwards towards the bed. Kon sat down on it before he knocked his ankles in the frame and Adrian wasted no time climbing into his lap and kissing him again. Kon rested his hands on Adrian's thighs, sliding them up to squeeze his ass. Adrian moaned into his mouth and ground his hips down on Kon's lap. Kon growled and flipped them over, laying Adrian down on the bed.

"Oop!" Adrian made a noise of surprise, eyes going unfocused for a moment. "Hold on, gimme a sec."

"You okay?" Kon asked, worried for a moment he may have hurt him.

"Yeah fine, just—" he waved a hand, staring up at the ceiling. "Sudden movement. Dizzy."

_ Drunk _ , Kon realized with a twist in his gut. Adrian had been drinking all night, little splashes of vodka or rum or gin in the bottom of his cup. Not much, not enough that it was obvious, but enough to add up at the end of the night.

Adrian finally got his bearings and reached up to curl his arms around Kon's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Kon tasted the hint of alcohol on his breath and felt dizzy, like he was the one who'd been drinking. He pulled away and looked down at Adrian spread out beneath him.

"Conner," Adrian whined, biting his lip.

Suddenly Kon was back under Paris, in the catacombs, in the secret cloning lab, Tim spread out under him, begging for him. His stomach had twisted then as well, knowing that there was no way Tim was in his right mind to be doing this but being too weak to say no. He'd wanted Tim so badly in that moment, it had overridden all his hard won common sense.

Kon sat up, extracting himself from Adrian. "I should go," he said. "I can't... I can't do this."

Kon made to get off the bed and leave, but Adrian scrambled up and grabbed his hand. "Wait!" he said, hazel eyes wide. "Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry," Kon said. "I shouldn't have come here."

Adrian started to look hurt. "I thought you liked me."

"I do, this isn't your fault," Kon said, delicately extracting Adrian's hand from his wrist and holding it gently. "I knew you were drinking, I should have known better."

Adrian pouted at him. "I don't care about that," he said.

"I do," Kon said, closing his eyes and remembering how Tim had pulled away, ripped himself from Kon's side, been terrified to even look at him ever since. "I can't do this again."

Adrian stared up at Kon, looking for a crack, a way to get through. When he didn't find one, he ripped his hand away. "Fine, go then," he snapped, flopping down on his bed and turning to face the wall, curling up into the fetal position. "You know the way out."

Kon felt horrible, but he knew there was no way he was going to make this better. "I'm sorry," he said one last time before leaving the room.

He quickly made his way out of the house, careful to lock the door behind him. He started walking down the street at a quick pace, needing to get far enough away where he wouldn't be spotted. As he walked he brought his phone out, bringing up his texting app.

_ I changed my mind _ , he texted Bart.  _ Normal people are just as fucked up as we are. _

Finally Kon reached a spot where he wouldn't be seen and took off into the sky. His heart pounded in his chest. An idiot, he was a damn  _ idiot _ . What had he thought was going to happen? Adrian hadn't been subtle, he'd practically worn a flashing neon sign, and Kon had gone along anyway. What was  _ wrong  _ with him?

Kon thought about how upset Adrian had looked, hazel eyes wide with confusion and hurt. His cheeks were still flushed with excitement, obvious against the paleness of his skin. His black hair had been messy already, mussed by a night of dancing and falling onto the bed.

_ Oh _ , Kon realized with a growing sense of horror settling in his gut,  _ he looked a lot like Tim _ .

The revelation hit Kon so hard it knocked him sideways. He tumbled through the air for a moment before righting himself, but not fast enough to avoid crashing into the side of a mountain. Kon pin-wheeled through the snow for a moment before landing with a flop in a twenty foot drift. He stared up at the night sky, chest heaving and breath clouding in the frigid air.

_ I want Tim _ , Kon realized.  _ All this time, I just want Tim. _

It made so much sense, for all that it didn't make  _ any  _ sense. Tim had known him since almost the beginning, and had been his friend ever since. He'd learned so much about himself with Tim at his side, and knowing Tim had for sure made him a better person. If he'd ever been asked if he loved Tim the answer was an unequivocal 'yes', because of course he loved his best friend. Even the revelation that Tim had tried to re-clone him back to life hadn't been enough to make Kon abandon him. They'd seen each other through their worst, there was no way Kon could ever say that he didn't love Tim.

But they hadn't seen each other through their worst, had they? Or at least Kon hadn't seen Tim through his worst, because Kon being  _ dead  _ had been Tim's worst. Kon and Bart had been gone and Tim had broken, and then by the time Kon had come back Tim had lost Bruce and Robin too. Was it any wonder Kon had given in to Tim when he'd begged? How could he have said no when Tim had been so desperate?

And Kon so in love without realizing it?

"Fuck!" Kon swore into the night sky, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Why was he so stupid? How could he not have  _ realized _ ?

Kon laid there in the snow for an indeterminate amount of time, stewing in his anger at himself. Eventually he had to let out a sigh and roll over, burying his face into the snow to cool off. He grabbed a handful of snow and stuck it down the back of his shirt, taking measured breaths. He could deal with this, he could figure this out, he just needed some time—and maybe someone smarter than he was to help him—to untangle the weirdness that his life had become.

Kon dug his phone out of his pocket. Someone smarter than him... normally he would have picked Tim, but that seemed like a bad idea right now. Cassie? No, that would have been too cruel on her. That left Bart, who probably wasn't smarter than he was, for all he'd memorized a million books on a thousand subjects by now. Still, he could be really insightful when he wanted to be, as evidenced by their talk last night.

Decided, Kon went to call Bart. It was probably too early to call, but Bart kept weird hours and Kon wasn't sure what time zone he was actually in. Just as he was about to tap the button, his phone lit up in the darkness with an incoming call. Kon's heart leapt into his throat when he saw the contact name on screen and he fumbled his phone in his hands, almost crushing it in his grip. Before he could think better of it he answered.

"Tim?" he asked, not really believing it. "Hello? Are you there?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't I a stinker?
> 
> I had fun creating Kel and Adrian, even though I don't think I like Adrian as a person. Keep in mind these characters are like, 18 at most, not fully formed humans yet. They're allowed to be annoying and immature and not know their limitations and what makes for healthy coping mechanisms. There's also the very real biphobia/acephobia/transphobia/etc-phobias that exist inside the LGBTQ community that I also wanted to exemplify a bit. Being gay doesn't give you a pass to be an asshole.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back with the chapter everyone's been waiting for. I had a lot of fun with this one and I hope it guts each and every one of you.
> 
> Trigger warnings for discussion of os self harm and suicide, and disturbing dream imagery

Kon's heart slammed in his chest as he waited for an answer. It had been so long since he'd heard from Tim, since any of them had heard from Tim, and they'd all been so worried. The Bats had been working as normal, including Red Robin, but Tim hadn't left Gotham in weeks. It felt as though they had just gotten Tim back onto the Titans only for him to disappear again. Cassie and Bart had been holding it together like champs, but Kon knew they missed him. Kon couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing that it was probably all his fault.

"Tim?" Kon asked again, worry starting to make his heart pound for a different reason. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

" _ Kon _ ," Tim finally answered, sending a wave of relief through him. " _ Hey, hi. I'm here _ ."

"Tim," Kon breathed, reveling in the sound of his voice, distorted as it was through the phone. "Hi."

" _ Hi _ ," Tim said, and Kon could hear the amused grin in his voice. " _ It's… been a while _ ," he said.

"Yeah," Kon said, sitting back in the snow. "How have you been?" he asked.

" _ It's been… alright _ ," Tim answered, sounding strained. " _ Nothing too unusual I guess. Typical Gotham crazy. You know how it is. What about you? How have you been _ ?" he started to ramble, trying to deflect.

Kon wouldn't be deterred. "Tim… What happened? Where have you  _ been _ ?"

Tim took a deep breath. " _ I've been… thinking _ ," he answered, the words sounding like they were being torn from his chest. " _ I've been figuring some stuff out lately _ ."

Kon swallowed thickly. "Yeah, me too," he said.

" _ Kon _ ," Tim said, voice soft, " _ I think we should talk _ ."

Anxiety gripped Kon's chest, but he forced himself to shake it off. "Yeah," he said.

_ We need to talk about Paris, we need to talk about what you said at the Tower, we need to talk about how I'm in  _ **_love_ ** _ with you. _ The words simmered in Kon's chest, hot and jarring. He wanted to say something, anything, but he found his throat all blocked up.

" _ Is now a good time _ ?" Tim asked. " _ I can hear the wind, are you flying? Should I call back _ ?"

"No!" Kon said, jumping to his feet. If he hung up, he might lose his nerve. "No I'm not flying, I'm on a mountain."

" _ Why are you on a mountain _ ?" Tim asked, confused.

"I… fell," Kon answered, feeling like an idiot.

" _ Are you okay _ ?" Tim asked.

_ No _ . "Yeah, I'm fine," Kon said. "I can talk."

" _ Okay _ ," Tim breathed. There was a long pause on the line, both of them waiting for the other to start. Kon swallowed and tried to breach the silence, but found his voice stuck.

" _ Kon… I'm not okay. _ " Tim said after a while.

Kon felt his heart clench. "Where are you? I can fly over."

" _ Don't you have class _ ?" Tim asked.

"I've got a few hours," Kon said. "And it wouldn't be the first time I was late."

" _ Kon _ ," Tim said, probably about to say something along the lines of how school was important (big words coming from a high school dropout with a GED).

"This is more important Tim," Kon cut him off.

Tim went quiet for a moment. " _ Okay _ ," he said. " _ I'm in Gotham, at the Manor _ ."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Kon promised, already dusting the snow off.

" _ I'll be on my balcony _ ," Tim said. " _ Kon… I'm sorry for—" _

The call disconnected.

"Tim? Hello, Tim?" Kon called, panic seizing his chest.

Had something happened? Was Tim in trouble? He said he was on the balcony. A sniper? Kidnapped? Ra's Al Ghul hadn't exactly been subtle about thirsting after Tim lately, had he finally snatched him? Kon didn't want to think of what Ra's would do to Tim if he had him. He took off into the air towards Gotham with such force that he was sure he caused an avalanche behind him.

* * *

 

Tim swore as his phone died. At the very least Kon knew where he was, so he'd be there in a few minutes or so. Sighing, Tim went inside to find his charger.

It had been stupid of him to assume Kon wouldn't answer his phone. Tim should have known better than to think Kon wouldn't answer his phone if it was within reach. Now he was probably on his way to Gotham and they were going to talk  _ right now _ .

Tim took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He should have gone to bed first, gotten a full night's sleep before even attempting this. His nerves felt frayed, and he could really use some coffee, but he didn't want to stray too far from his room in case Kon arrived without him there. With a sigh, Tim went back out to the balcony to wait.

The days were getting colder, and the mornings were especially frigid. The trees around the manor were just starting to turn colours, and one or two had found their way onto the balcony. The early morning light coupled with the creeping mist over the ground gave the world an eerie quality, the whole world seemed hushed, like it was holding it's breath, trying not to be seen. Tim shivered as a cold, damp breeze blew past, considering going back inside for his slippers and a sweater.

Another frigid wind made Tim shiver and he went inside to search for a hoodie and some socks. He didn't know where Kon was in the world—aside from on a mountain for some reason—and he wasn't sure how long he'd be waiting. He wasn't going to risk frost bitten toes over this.

Just as Tim was pulling a hoodie out from under his bed where it had been dropped, there was a shuddering thud on the balcony. It figured, Tim thought, that the moment he stepped away from the balcony was when Kon would arrive.

"Tim!" Kon called, sounding panicked. Tim could see him from the balcony, looking around frantically.

"Kon," Tim called, wondering why he was so panicked, "what's going—?"

Kon's head whipped around so quickly Tim was certain he heard a snap. The look of relief that spread over his face made Tim want to blush and hide his face, but he didn't get the chance before Kon had crossed the room and kissed him.

Tim had split second of confusion and shock before he felt himself melting into it. Kon was a bit chilled from flying in the cold, but his mouth was warm and fierce against Tim's. Arms as strong as iron crushed Tim into his broad chest, almost caging him. Tim sighed into the kiss, hands fisting in Kon's shirt and tilting his head to deepen it. Kon made noise in his chest, hands tightening where they gripped his shoulder and hip.

Kon broke away. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are the ninjas?" he asked rapid-fire, eyes darting around the room and still pressing Tim close like he was trying to shield him.

Tim's brain took a moment to come back online. "Ninjas? What ninjas? There are no ninjas."

Kon blinked and looked down at Tim. "There's not?" he asked.

"No?" Tim said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why would there be ninjas?"

"You—your call cut out. I thought—and then you weren't on the balcony like you said, and—" Kon tried to explain.

"My phone died," Tim said. "I came inside to plug it in."

"Oh," Kon said, flushing a little as he realized he'd freaked out over nothing.

Tim wanted to laugh at him, but it was just then that he realized what had just happened, how closely he was still pressed into Kon's chest. Kon seemed to realize how close they were and let go of Tim, stepping back a few paces.

"Uh…" Kon flushed red. "That was…"

"Right," Tim said, shivering now that he was no longer enveloped in Kon's warm arms.

They stood on opposite sides of the room for a second, neither of them saying anything. Kon cleared his throat, but he couldn't seem to look Tim in the eye. Tim glanced towards the door, wondering if anyone had heard Kon arrive.

Eventually Kon cleared his throat again. "We should uhh… probably talk?"

Tim nodded. "Probably," he said. They lapsed into silence again.

Kon ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "Alright, okay, I'm going to say it first," he said. "Paris," He looked straight into Tim’s eyes, "we need to talk about it."

Tim flinched, surprised by the visceral surge of emotions in his chest. “Yeah,” he said.

“We had sex,” Kon said, matter-of-fact.

“We did,” Tim said, wrapping his arms around himself. “Kon, I’m so—“

“I’m so sorry Tim,” Kon said in a rush.

Tim looked up, surprised. “What?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” Kon repeated, looking actually distressed. “I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t have, but I did it anyway. I’m so sorry.”

“What? No,” Tim said, “I’m the one who should be sorry, I’m the one who begged you.”

Kon shook his head. “I didn’t have to say yes,” he said. “You clearly weren’t well, and I took advantage of that.”

“I wasn’t—“ Tim started to defend, but what could he really say? He hadn’t been in his right mind in Paris. He wasn’t sure if he was in his right mind right now. “You didn’t take advantage of me Kon.”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” Kon said, eyes cast down. “I’m sorry Tim.”

“I—“ Tim wasn’t sure what he should say. This hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. “You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want you to do Kon,” he said. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position in the first place.”

Kon looked up. “I hurt you,” he said.

_ The stretch of Kon breaching him, the burn as he was fucked. _ Tim shivered. “I… You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do,” Tim repeated. “I… I liked that it hurt. I—I  _ wanted _ you to hurt me.”

Kon looked stricken. “Tim,” he said, taking a step forward and reaching out a hand. He stopped, retracting his hand like he might hurt Tim with just his touch.

Tim squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of the pain, of how much he’d liked it. He hated that he wanted to grab his toolkit and cut into his legs until the world made sense again. “You were right, about me not being well,” he said. “I was… there was so  _ much _ Kon, I couldn’t deal with it.” Tim had to force himself to keep breathing steadily. “I just—I needed to  _ feel _ something. I needed something to keep me from going out of my mind.”

“And afterward,” Tim said, a hysteric giggle bubbling up in his throat. “Afterwards I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t deal with what I’d done, what it meant. I wanted to lie to myself, so I kept hurting myself. I needed to keep myself under control. And then you came out and I fucking lost it. It—it got  _ bad _ Kon. It got really bad.”

There was a touch against his cheek and Tim opened his eyes. Kon was standing in front of him now, having finally crossed the room to brush the tears from his face. Tim hadn’t even noticed that he’d started crying.

“Tim,” Kon said, looking horrified, like he was about to start crying as well. “I’m so sorry. I should have—I never should have come out like that, without trying to talk to you first.”

“No,” Tim said, shaking his head. “No that wasn’t on you. I… I shouldn’t have have shut you out.”

“But I noticed how hard you were taking it,” Kon said, “when I found you in the kitchen. I could see you were all out of sorts, and I still pushed you.”

“Kon,” Tim said, about to try and tell him that it hadn’t been his fault, that Tim was really the one to blame, but he stopped, a smile cracking across his face. “We’re going in circles.”

Kon blinked, then smiled wanly. “Yeah, we’re gonna be at this all day at this rate,” he said.

Suddenly they were laughing together, loud and bright, like they used to in their Young Justice days. It was absurd, to be laughing right now, but this whole situation was absurd. They clung to one another tightly, desperately, terrified to let go. Eventually they started winding down, their laughter tapering off and leaving heavy, empty silence. They continued clinging to each other, Tim’s hands on Kon’s biceps with a white-knuckle grip and Kon’s hands on Tim’s sides, his TTK curling and shifting around him like he was unsure where he should hold him.

“I’m sorry Kon,” Tim said, unable to tear his gaze away from Kon.

“I’m sorry too, Tim,” Kon said. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Tim’s. “How can we fix this?”

“I don't know,” Tim said, leaning into the touch. A cold wind swept passed him and he shivered, realizing that the balcony window was still open. “We should sit and talk.”

Kon glanced at the open balcony door. "Oh, right," he said.

Tim gestured for Kon to sit down on the bed and went to close the balcony door. Kon ended up sort of hovering a few feet from Tim, finally following him to the bed when he sat down.

They sat next to each other in silence for a minute, Tim's stomach twisting in on itself. Kon was a line of warmth at his side, solid but not oppressive. The last time they'd sat together alone like this had been in Paris, when this whole mess started. Tim fisted the bedspread in his hands, fighting to keep himself calm.

"At the Tower, when you said you weren't like me," Kon asked, "what did you mean?"

Tim forced his chest to expand and contract, the effort of just breathing exhausting him. "I meant—really I was lying," Tim explained. "I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't—that I'm not…" he trailed off, the word getting tangled in his throat.

"Not… what?" Kon prompted, furrowing his brows slightly.

"Gay," Tim said, pushing the word out in a whisper, but knowing that Kon would hear it.

"Oh," Kon said, sounding only slightly surprised. "But, you are?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'm gay, and that…" Tim drew his legs up onto the bed and curled up, "that  _ terrifies  _ me."

"Tim," Kon said, reaching one hand out to place on Tim's back. "You don't have to be scared."

"I know that," Tim said, pressing his forehead into his knees. "In my head I  _ know  _ that it's fine for people to be gay, or bi, or whatever, but I can't—it wasn't supposed to be  _ me _ . I was supposed to grow up, marry a good girl with good breeding, make a bunch of well bred little children, and take over my father's business."

Kon started to look confused. "Wayne Enterprises?" he asked.

"Drake Industries," Tim clarified. "My dad… he wanted a certain kind of life for me. I know he just wanted me to be happy, but… I don't know if he ever would have… approved."

Kon took a deep breath. "If he didn't then—" he started to say, then stopped. He let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry Tim, that really sucks."

"Mom was worse," Tim said. "She was… she was worse."

Tim could see the muscle in Kon's jaw twitch. "Tim… you said that you… _hurt_ yourself. Are you—is it—?" He couldn't seem to even finish the question.

Tim took a deep breath. Slowly, his hands shaking, Tim carefully pulled up the bottom of his pyjama pant leg, exposing the rows of cuts dug into is skin, scarring it forever. Kon sucked in a sharp breath, whole body going tense next to Tim.

"It got bad Kon," Tim said, hating that his voice started to crack. "It got  _ really  _ bad. I—I almost—I nearly—" The words broke off into sobs.

Kon pressed his mouth into a thin line. Carefully, he curled his arm around Tim's back, pulling him against his side and squeezing gently. Tim took deep, shuddering breaths, letting Kon's warmth seep into him. Curled up with Kon like this, Tim realized sharply how cold he was, how cold he's been for such a long time. It was like his bones had frozen inside of him.

They stayed there for a while, Kon rubbing Tim's shoulder and Tim slowly relaxing against him. Eventually he just sagged against Kon, too exhausted to keep crying. Kon's chest rose and fell under him, and if Tim turned his head a little he could hear Kon's heart thudding in his chest.

"I'm sorry Kon," Tim said softly, not quite breaking the silence.

"It's okay, I understand," Kon said.

"It doesn't make what I did okay," Tim said.

Kon took a long, slow breath. "None of it is okay," he said. "I should have tried harder to talk to you."

Tim huffed, not quite a laugh. "We're going to get into a loop again," he said. "Kon?" he asked tentatively.

"Hm?" Kon looked down at him, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm… I'm not okay," Tim admitted, closing his eyes and burying his face into Kon's shirt. "I'm really not okay."

Kon's breath hitched slightly. He tugged Tim into his chest, tucking his head under his chin. Tim buried his nose into Kon's neck and breathed deeply, feeling like something hard and thorny had finally dislodged itself from his chest.

* * *

 

They ended up curled up together on the bed after a while. Tim had finally exhausted himself and gone right to sleep tucked under Kon's arm, but Kon stayed awake for a while longer, thinking about everything they'd talked about. Seeing the scars on Tim's legs, some of them pink with freshness or white with age, had made Kon sick to his stomach. It took everything in him not to get up and melt every sharp object in a fifty mile radius. He'd just got Tim back, the thought that he might have lost him… Kon suppressed a shudder.

Eventually Kon dropped off into a fitful doze, unable to fully fall asleep. He felt like he couldn't let his guard down, that if he did Tim would slip away and hurt himself again. When he did manage to sleep deeply enough his dreams were plagued by visions of Tim digging knives into his flesh, blood pouring out of him and pooling at his feet. Kon tried to stop him, but he couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't do so much as blink as Tim bled to death in front of him. With a spike of horror, Kon realized it was because he was dead. He had died and he hadn't come back to life. Tim was dying and he couldn't stop it because he was already dead.

Kon didn't scream or jolt as he woke up, but it was a near thing. He forced himself to be still, to not disturb Tim as he slept. To keep himself from falling into another nightmare he kept count of Tim's heartbeats.

It was approaching late afternoon by the time Tim stirred. He shifted against Kon's side and sighed, eyes blinking open sleepily. Kon reached up and ran his fingers through Tim's hair.

"Hey," Kon said softly. "Feeling better?"

Tim rubbed his eyes groggily. "Yeah," he sighed again, then yawned. "Did you sleep?"

"Yeah, a little," Kon lied. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I want to sleep forever," Tim said, half joking and half melancholic. He sighed deeply and sat up. "You should probably get going. Mrs. Kent will be worried and I know you skipped class."

"I'll deal with that later," Kon said, sitting up. "Unless, you really want me to leave?"

Tim hesitated, then shook his head. "No, don't… I don't want to be alone right now," he said, dropping against Kon's side. "I'm not sure what I'd do to myself if I was alone."

Kon suppressed a shudder. Not a chance he was leaving Tim's side now. "You want to talk about it?" he asked.

Tim shook his head. "No, not yet," he said, then looked up at Kon and smiled. "But thank you. It's always been easier to talk to you."

Kon felt his heart trip in his chest and his face heat. Practically holding his breath with anticipation, Kon leaned forward and kissed Tim. He was warmer than usual from being bundled up in blankets and Kon while he slept. His breath wasn't great but his lips were as soft as ever. Tim sighed into him, eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes tickling Kon's cheek.

They broke apart but Kon didn't move away, leaning his forehead on Tim's. For a moment they just stayed there, curled up close together. "So, what happens now?" Kon breathed.

Tim took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted.

Kon nuzzled against Tim, one hand reaching up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing against his cheekbone. His heart was beating so hard in his chest he was half-certain that Tim could hear it.

Tim leaned into the touch for a moment, then reached up and put his hand over Kon's, fingers curling around it and pulling it away. "Kon," he said softly, "I don't think I can be in a relationship right now."

Kon would have been less shocked by a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Tim said in a rush, tearing his eyes away. "I just—I don't think I could handle it right now. Not with… everything."

Kon swallowed thickly. "Oh," he said.

Tim squeezed his hand. "It's not that—it's not that I don't… don't  _ like  _ you Kon. I just… I don't think it would be healthy for either of us."

Kon tried to stomp down on the selfish, disappointed part of him and forced a smile. "It's okay Tim, I understand."

And he  _ did  _ understand, he really did, but it didn't make him feel any better. He felt as though he'd been dying of thirst and finally discovered a well, only for it to be filled with mud. But what could he do? Tim wasn't wrong about not being in a good place right now, and Kon couldn't force him to be in a relationship with him. It would only end in disaster if he tried.

Tim squeezed Kon's hand again. "I—I'm sorry."

Kon took a deep breath and smiled at Tim. "You don't have to be," he said. "I understand."

Tim ran his free hand through his hair. "It's not like I don't  _ want  _ to be with you. This whole thing started when you—while you were gone."

Kon sucked in a breath at the mention of his death. He'd been so busy lately with finding his place in Clark's life, he'd shoved his feelings about his death away. With the nightmare serving as a nice fresh reminder and Tim bringing it up now, the feelings came rushing back, hard enough to make Kon dizzy.

Tim continued. "I was so desperate to have you back, I went  _ crazy _ ," he said, "and I want to be with you, I just…"

Kon gave himself a mental shake. "It's okay Tim, you don't have to explain it to me," he said, reaching up to tip Tim's chin up. "Just… don't shut me out again?"

Tim's eyes were shiny and wet. He swallowed hard and nodded. Kon wrapped his arms around Tim and pulled him in for a tight hug. He could do this. For as long as he needed to, he'd keep a tight lid on his feelings and just be there for Tim. Maybe one day he'd get to tell him, but it would just have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't I a stinker?


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get these chapters done so damn quickly I'm amazed by myself. The wonders of hyper fixation, a itch to write, and a job that allows me to write in between calls (technically I think it's Against The Rules but no one really cares that much).
> 
> Trigger warnings for some very disturbing dream imagery, panic attacks, and unkind words

Kon stayed for a while afterwards, the two of them staying holed up in Tim's room, but eventually he had to leave. His phone was starting to blow up with messages from Ma, then Clark, and even finally Lois. Kon would have preferred to stay, but Tim assured him that he couldn't.

"If Bruce finds you here, it'll just be a mess," Tim said.

Kon scoffed. "He doesn't scare me," he said. Tim gave him a deadpan look. "Alright, so he scares me a little, but I'd still fight him for you."

"I appreciate it," Tim said, smiling up at him. "Really Kon, you need to go. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Kon asked. "You said weren't sure if—" he cut himself off,  _ 'if you were going to hurt yourself' _ hovering in the empty space.

"I'm fine now," Tim assured him. "I haven't cut in weeks Kon, I can manage until we see each other again."

Kon tried to block out the memory of Tim's blood pooling on the floor from his nightmare. "You'll call me, if you're feeling like you need to—?" He swallowed. "Just call before you do anything, okay?"

Tim nodded. "I promise."

Kon would have liked nothing more than to gather Tim up in his arms and kiss him until all of their problems melted away. He wanted to pick him up and carry him away back to the farm to keep him away from the rest of the world, but he didn't think that would go over well with Tim or Ma, not to mention what the Bats might do to him. With a few final reassurances, they said their goodbyes and Kon flew off towards Kansas.

As he flew, Kon pulled out his phone, wincing when he saw all of the missed calls and text messages. He even had a few from Bart and Cassie, wondering where he was. Sighing, Kon scrolled through his contacts and hit call.

_ "Conner Kent, you better have a good explanation for not coming home last night,"  _ Ma said them moment the call connected.

"Hi Ma," Kon said, wincing at her tone. He was in for it now. "I'm really sorry I didn't come home. There was an emergency."

_ "What sort of emergency?" _ Ma asked, somehow sounding half incredulous and half concerned, if that could even be a thing.  _ "Because I just got off the phone with Clark and he said there weren't any emergencies last night." _

"Not that kind of emergency," Kon said. "It was a personal kind of thing."

_ "What happened?" _ Ma asked, switching to more concerned now. _ "Are you okay?" _

"I'm fine Ma," Kon said. "It was a friend. We—he needed me."

Ma sighed.  _ "Well, I guess I can't get mad about that," _ she said,  _ "but I  _ can  _ be annoyed that you didn't think to call me. I was so worried about you Conner." _

"I know, I'm sorry Ma," Kon said. "I didn't mean to make you worry, it just slipped my mind."

_ "Well, you can make it up for me with extra chores on top of the ones you didn't do this morning," _ Ma said.  _ "Are you on your way home now?" _

"Yeah I'm coming now. I should be home soon," Kon said, swerving slightly to avoid a flock of geese, "provided I don't get stuck in traffic."

_ "Ha ha," _ Ma intoned. _ "Don't forget to call Clark. He's worked himself into a state, not knowing where you are." _

"He's next on my list," Kon promised. "See you soon Ma, bye."

_ "Get home safe," _ Ma said, then disconnected. Kon sighed and tapped through to call Clark.

The phone didn't even get through one ring before Clark picked up.  _ "Kon! Are you okay? Where are you?" _

"Hi, I'm fine," Kon said. "I had a personal emergency in Gotham."

_ "Gotham? What happened in Gotham?" _ Clark asked.  _ "Should I suit up and head over?" _

"What part of 'personal' did you miss?" Kon asked.

_ "Don't you back talk me right now young man," _ Clark snapped.

Kon almost dropped his phone in shock.

There was a pause on the line as Clark seemed to realize how he'd snapped. _ "I'm sorry,"  _ he said.  _ "I just—I've been worried all day. I tried to find you but I couldn't hear you. I thought… I thought something happened." _

_ I thought you died again _ , Kon realized he wasn't saying. A cold chill spread through his ribs and into his stomach. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have called."

Clark let out a long sigh. _ "Gotham you said? What happened?" _

"Personal stuff. Tim called. He… he's been going through some stuff," Kon said, trying to keep it as vague as possible. "Guess Batman's crazy anti-Superman gizmos work on the whole house."

_ "Yes, that would explain why I couldn't find you," _ Clark said.  _ "I called around, the only person who'd heard from you last night was Kid Flash, and he said you sounded 'off'. Are you okay?" _

Kon bit his lip. "Mostly, I don't know, I was thinking about stuff," he said. "It's not important."

_ "Are you sure?" _ Clark asked.  _ "You know I'm here for you if you need to talk." _

"I know, thanks Cl—thanks Dad," Kon said, feeling genuine warmth. "I just have to think about some stuff."

_ "Right," _ Clark said, sounding much more relaxed now.  _ "Well anyway, I think this little stunt of yours warrants some punishment. You're grounded." _

"Grounded?" Kon asked, shocked. "What the hell? You practically told me I could ditch class for kicks. My best friend needed me. How the hell does that get me grounded?"

_ "You're grounded for not telling anyone where you went and worrying everyone sick,"  _ Clark said, putting on that annoyingly authoritative tone he used as Superman.  _ "So yes, you're grounded for a week. No TV, no computer, no phone." _

"Whaaat? You can't do that," Kon groaned. "That's so unfair."

_ "It's entirely fair," _ Clark said.  _ "I'm your father and you're grounded." _

"You sound way too gleeful about this," Kon grumbled. "Can I at least keep my phone in case someone needs me? It's really hard to tell people where I'm going if I don't have a way to communicate with them."

Clark huffed, caught in his own trap. _ "Fine, but no games, only for telling me, Ma, or Lois where you are and emergencies." _

"I promise," Kon said, already planning on sneaking some games on his phone before he even got home, just out of spite.

_ "And extra chores at home too," _ Clark tacked on, clearly having too much fun.

"Too late, Ma beat you to it," Kon said. "she's already going to have me re-shingling the roof with how mad she sounded."

_ "As she should," _ Clark said.  _ "Now get home. No dilly-dallying. I'll be calling the house in a few minutes to make sure." _

"I'm like, an hour out at top speed," Kon said.

_ "Well then, I guess you better hurry," _ Clark said, then hung up. Kon rolled his eyes and stowed his phone away before speeding off.

He reached the farm in record time, breaking the sound barrier once to make it. Ma was waiting on the porch for him, a cup of tea to keep her warm in the chilled air. He landed a few feet off and kept his head down as he approached.

"Hey Ma," he said. "Sorry."

Ma sipped her tea and sighed. "It's alright, just remember for next time," she said. "Now head inside, there's some lunch for you in the kitchen."

Kon nodded and bent to kiss her cheek quickly before heading inside. There was a sandwich and a slightly limp salad waiting for him on the counter, but Kon didn't feel all that hungry. He forced half of the sandwich down and then went up to his room.

When he got to his room, Kon flopped down on the bed and buried his face into his pillow. It was inching towards late afternoon in Kansas, but Kon didn't feel like going to school. Everything that had happened in the last 24 hours swirled around in his head, making him feel dizzy and exhausted. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't seem to quiet his mind.

Kon fell into a fitful sleep after a while, plagued by shapeless dreams. Slowly he became aware of himself, aware that he wasn't alone. Tim was there with him, and they were in his bed together. Kon had had this dream before. He wrapped his arms around Tim and pulled him close, kissing him wherever he could reach, though for some reason he couldn't quite catch Tim's mouth. His hips moved against Tim's, thrusting into his warm body. Tim was moaning and gasping into his ear.

"Don't stop, don't stop," Tim begged.

Kon thrust faster, his hands roaming over Tim's body, eventually resting at his collar. Kon reached up to feel Tim's pulse, and suddenly his hands were around Tim's throat. Against his will he began to squeeze, still thrusting into Tim. Tim began to struggle, but he was ineffective against Kon's brute strength. As Kon continued to squeeze his throat Tim gasped and clawed at him.

"Stop, don't," Tim begged.

Kon wanted to stop, but he couldn't control his hands. He squeezed and squeezed as Tim struggles got weaker and weaker. Kon thrust one last time, hands clenching hard around Tim's throat. There was a sickening crack as Kon crushed his neck, and Tim went limp.

Kon bolted out of bed with a yelp, landing hard on the floor. For a moment he struggled to breathe, like he was the one being choked. He finally managed to gasp, taking stuttering, sobbing breaths as he realized what he'd just dreamt. He curled up on the floor and heaved up the half of the sandwich he'd eaten. Kon's mind raced and his heart pounded as he tried to make sense of what he'd just dreamed. He'd had dreams where he was having sex with Tim before, but he'd never… he could  _ never  _ do something like—

Kon groaned and heaved again, nothing coming up this time. He pressed his forehead into the floor, trying to steady his breathing.  _ It was only a dream _ , he told himself,  _ just a really bad dream _ .

There was a knock on his door. "Conner? Sweetie are you okay?" Ma called. She must have heard him shout.

Kon coughed a few times. "Fine Ma," he called, voice wrecked. Had he been screaming in his sleep?

"Are you sure? Do you need me to call Clark?" Ma asked.

"No, I'm fine Ma," Kon said, finally sitting up. There was a forehead shaped dent in the wood floor.

"Alright," Ma said, not sounding convinced at all, but a moment later she moved away from the door.

Kon tried to steady his breathing, tried to block the awful thoughts in his head. Eventually he managed to stand on shaking legs and start to clean things up. Thankfully Ma had gone back downstairs and Kon could get things from the bathroom without attracting her attention. He cleaned up the vomit and did his best to fix the dent. Keeping his hands busy helped get his mind away from his dream, so after a quick shower and a change of clothes he headed outside to do some work.

"Conner? You okay?" Ma asked he passed her in the kitchen. She was starting on dinner.

"Fine," Kon said, giving her a tight smile.

"You're white as a sheet," Ma said, but Kon was already out the door and heading out to the garden.

Krypto leapt off the porch and followed Kon, whimpering and licking at Kon's hand. Kon gave him an absent pat, still caught up in his own head.

Ma had done his morning chores, but there was still Kon's evening chores and about a half-dozen other things that needed doing, so Kon got to work. In all likelihood he would have ended up doing them anyway as punishment, so he might as well get a head start.

Kon had finished his evening chores and was just starting to repair the old fence when Ma called him for dinner. Kon ignored her, stomach still feeling a little queasy and not ready to face her just yet. He continued working on the old fence, patching it in places and putting new barbed wire around the posts. He didn't bother with gloves, the wire nowhere close enough to strong enough to pierce his bullet-proof skin.

By the time Kon had finished with the fence, it was starting to get dark. Kon was considering going into the barn to start reinforcing the roof when Ma appeared at his side.

"Fence looks good," she said, startling him slightly. He hadn't been paying attention and hadn't heard her come up beside him.

Kon didn't say anything, voice tangled up somewhere in his chest. Ma looked up at him, worry in her eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Kon took a deep breath and untangled his voice. "I'm alright, just... bad dream freaked me out."

"Must have been some dream," Ma said. "Come inside and have something to eat?"

Kon nodded and followed Ma back to the house. The work had helped somewhat, his hands were no longer shaking and he didn't think he would toss his cookies if he tried to eat anything anymore, but he couldn't quite shake off the prickly feeling across his skin. The dream had been too vivid, too real to forget. The sound of Tim's neck snapping under his own hands rang in the back of his head, and no amount of work would ever make him forget.

* * *

Tim watching Kon fly off into the sky until he disappeared from sight. With a sigh, he turned and went into his room. He felt oddly light, having gotten so much heaviness off of his chest, but he was still exhausted despite the restful sleep. He would have liked to crawl back into bed and sleep the rest of the day away, but he knew there were too many things he needed to do. With another sigh, he went to take a shower and get ready for the rest of the day.

The house was quite as Tim walked through it. Bruce was probably out at work and if Tim had counted the days correctly, today was the day Alfred would be working in the garden getting everything ready for winter. Kate actually had her own life outside of the house, and Tim was sure that Steph was at class. Tim hadn't been keeping up with what Dick was up to, so who knew where he'd gone, and while he'd never been able to keep track of Damian's comings and goings, the kid was usually quiet anyway, so Tim felt fairly alone in the house.

Whenever Tim wound up alone in the house, he always felt strangely nostalgic. He recalled the long stretches of his childhood spent alone in his big, empty house, not knowing when his parents would return. Once, when he was about seven or so, he'd gotten it into his head that he'd been abandoned, that his parents were never coming back for him. Eventually the nanny and the housekeeper would leave too, and Tim would be left to wander the house forever, completely alone and left behind. Instead of being upset, Tim had just sort of accepted it. He'd accepted that his fate was to eventually be abandoned in the big grand house to fend for himself, and had starting preparing for it, taking food from the cupboards and hiding it away for later, checking to make sure where all of the blankets were, and collecting as many photographs of his parents as he could, to make sure he didn't forget their faces. He'd honestly been completely shocked when his parents had returned a few weeks later, and had put the whole thing behind him.

Looking back on it now, Tim was sure that he'd thought that because that was the first trip his parents had gone on after his mother found him kissing the gardener's son.

Contrary to what the others thought, Tim was well aware of what his parents had done to him was wrong. Emotional neglect was a fairly new classification of abuse, but all signs pointed to it being as similarly damaging as any other form of abuse. What made it complicated was it was hard to make the delineations now, after such a long time had passed and his parents were both dead. Had his parents known that they were leaving him alone to much? Had they not thought about it because they could hire people to look after his physical wellbeing? Would they have been sorry if Tim could have asked them about it all these years later?

It didn't do any good to dwell on it too much, Tim figured. His parents were dead, and unless they came back from the dead he'd never get the chance to talk to them about it. This in mind, Tim shook off the odd feeling of nostalgia and made his way down to the kitchen for something to eat.

Tim hadn't quite shaken his mood by the time he reached the kitchen, otherwise he might have noticed Damian sitting at the kitchen island sooner.

Damian was sitting at the island, scratching away at a sketchbook, headphones plugged into his ears. Tim noticed Damian before Damian noticed him, but he still didn't have enough time to retreat before he was spotted. Damian looked startled for a moment, then narrowed his eyes to glare at Tim.

"What are you doing here?" he sneered, carefully removing his headphones, watching Tim like a hawk.

Tim barely didn't roll his eyes. "I live here," he said, crossing to the fridge to find something to eat.

"You have your own dwelling, you've been freeloading for weeks now," Damian said. He gave a nasty grin. "Sooner or later, they're going to get tired of you."

"They've kept me around for longer than they've even known about you," Tim pointed out, pulling out some roast beef and mustard to make a sandwich. "If anything, they'll get tired of you before they get tired of me."

"They will not!" Damian shouted, suddenly leaping onto the kitchen island. "You are a stray they felt sorry for,  _ I  _ am the blood son!  _ You  _ are nothing!"

Tim did not have the patience to deal with this right now. Setting the roast beef and mustard down, he struck out and grabbed Damian's ankle, yanking him off of the countertop. With a few twists and the help of gravity, Tim got Damian onto the floor and pinned him, one arm twisted behind his back to keep him from wiggling away.

"I've had just about enough of your shit," Tim hissed. "You've been nothing but a pissy brat since came here, and I'm  _ sick  _ of it. You act all superior and proud that you're the blood son, but guess what? The only thing that means is that we're all  _ stuck  _ with you. Bruce  _ chose  _ me, he  _ wanted  _ me,  _ you  _ are the one he took pity on."

It was horribly mean, but Tim was too fed up with Damian's bad attitude to care anymore. Dick could coddle the little brat as much as he wanted, but if Damian wanted a fight, Tim would give him one. Damian had been trained in every deadly art there was, but Tim knew just where to twist the knife to make it  _ hurt _ .

Tim let Damian up, bouncing back a few paces and readying himself for an attack. Damian scrambled up, but surprisingly didn't immediately attack Tim. Instead, he stood there, going pink in the face and absolutely shaking with rage. Tim put on an unaffected air and went back to making his sandwich, always keeping his senses trained on Damian. Tim took up a knife and began cutting into the meat, ready to drop it should Damian attack. He was not ready for Damian to speak up again.

"Do you think I do not  _ know  _ that?"

Tim didn't flinch or jolt, but he did put down the knife. His back was facing Damian—which would be dangerous for anyone who wasn't trained by the best—but he didn't turn around. He didn't know if he wanted to face Damian. He didn't know if Damian wanted him to face him.

"Do you think I am  _ stupid _ , that I did not  _ notice _ ?" Damian hissed. "Do you think I have not observed father fret and concern himself over you? That I have not witnessed Pennyworth and Brown and Gordon gravitate to you and cringe in my presence? That I am unaware that Grayson would have preferred  _ you _ as his Robin!?"

Damian's voice had steadily climbed as he spoke, and by the time he reached the end of his rant he was shouting. Tim turned around to look at him, and with a shade of amazement Tim noticed that there were tears gathering in the corner of Damian's eyes.

_ He'd heard what Dick said _ , Tim realized.

_"_ _You think I preferred_ him _over my own little brother?_ _"_ Dick had shouted at Tim the last time they'd argued. Tim hadn't been at his best then, and it was entirely possible that Damian had followed them and heard them arguing. Tim remembered how Dick had said it, the viciousness of the 'him' and the desperation in 'my own little brother,' designed to appeal to Tim, tug at his heart strings. To Damian however, it would have sounded so dismissive, so back handed. Tim knew that Dick was the person that Damian had grown closest to and trusted the most, and hearing that must have felt like betrayal.

Part of Tim wanted to keep being mean and nasty, to throw it back in Damian's face and laugh while doing it, but the other part of him knew exactly how that felt. As much as it might have felt nice in the moment to go on the attack, Tim couldn't bring himself to do it. As the anger faded, it was replaced with—of all things to feel for  _ Damian— _ empathy.

Damian was eleven at most, in an entirely new environment where all the rules he'd ever learned were suddenly wrong and he had to learn new ones on the fly. He was surrounded by people he didn't know and who didn't know him, who expected him to act a certain way and got annoyed or frustrated when he didn't. Damian had to rebuild his entire life from the ground up, with only the baggage of his past to use as foundation and the scars of his abuse to keep him company. Didn't Tim know what that was like? To find himself in a new place with people who treated him in a way he'd never experienced before? It was confusing and strange and not always nice, even when everyone around him was trying their best.

Tim let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn't an excuse for Damian to act the way he did, but Tim couldn't bring himself to blame Damian anymore. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Damian, who was still shaking where he stood, apparently too furious to move away.

Tim sighed again. "I'm sorry.”

Damian blinked in surprise. "You are?' he asked, the words probably slipping out without meaning to.

"Yes," Tim said. "Bruce loves you, you're his son. He doesn't pity you. I shouldn’t have said that."

Damian swallowed thickly and averted his gaze, quickly and harshly scrubbing the moisture away from his eyes. Tim turned back to making his sandwich, still keep his guard up but not expecting an attack.

"But you really have to stop acting like I'm your enemy," Tim said, spreading mustard on the slices of bread. He moved back to the fridge and took a few leaves of lettuce to put on it was well. "I'm really not out to get you."

"You made a hit list with me on it," Damian snapped with a huff.

"I made a list of people I thought it was smart to keep an eye on," Tim pointed out. "If you took a good look at it, you'd see that half the Justice League and more than a dozen Titans were on that list.  _ Superman and Wonder Woman _ were on that list."

Damian said nothing, but when Tim glanced at him out of the corner of his peripheral vision, he noticed that his cheeks had gone a little pink. Tim continued making his sandwich. "And aside from that, I hid that list so no one would find it. You went  _ looking  _ for trouble and then got mad when you found it."

"You do not trust me," Damian said, deflecting Tim's accusation with one of his own. He reminded Tim so much of Bruce sometimes.

"You've done nothing to  _ earn  _ my trust," Tim snapped back, turning to face Damian. "I was perfectly willing to trust you when you first came here, but you immediately attacked me. You tried to  _ kill  _ me and have shown no remorse for doing so. Since then you've been nothing but mean and bratty, snooping through my things, pestering me for no reason, and generally not acting trustworthy at all. You keep whining that you want to be trusted and that you've changed, so  _ act  _ like it."

Damian looked stunned, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. Tim turned back around and cut his sandwich in half, plating it. "I'm not Dick. I'm not going to hold your hand and coddle you in the hopes that affection makes less of a brat," he said, licking mustard off of his thumb. "I'm going to hold you  _ accountable  _ for your actions."

Tim picked up his plate and moved towards the door. "When you  _ show  _ me I can trust you, I will," he said.

Tim was almost out the door when Damian spoke up. "Fine," he said.

Tim stopped in the doorway, surprised. He turned to look at Damian, but he had already gathered up his sketchbook and had resumed scratching away at it. Tim wanted to ask what he meant, but Damian had already put his headphones in. He was glaring intensely at his sketchbook and dragging his pencil across is like he wanted to carve it open, but he was completely ignoring Tim. He wasn't even paying the slightest bit of attention to Tim, shutting him out of his perception as much as possible. If Tim wanted, he could probably throw his plate at Damian's head and Damian wouldn't have enough time to dodge.

Damian was trusting Tim not to do it.

Tim didn't smile, but did let out a little huff of a laugh and turned to leave the kitchen. It didn't feel much like progress, but maybe they were at least pointing in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing Tim and Damian together. I like both characters, but I do have issues with how Damian was introduced and how DC has shoved Tim out in favour of Damian, which is super annoying. It's not just the whole thing with Tim's relationships to the others getting shuffled around, but also Damian being kind of a Mary Sue insert character. He's the Blood Son of Batman and he's More Trained and Deadly and isn't that So Cool. These characters can work when they're done well, but Damian can be so hit and miss when he doesn't have a good writer.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again. Got another nasty one for y'all. I hope you're all ready to Suffer™.
> 
> Trigger warnings for discussions of death, disturbing dream imagery of violent sexual assault, panic attacks, and descriptions of the violent death of a chicken.

Kon picked listlessly at his dinner, not having much of an appetite. He wasn't feeling queasy anymore, but he still didn't feel much like eating. Ma refrained from asking what was bothering him, though she clearly seemed like she wanted to. Kon was torn between being grateful and desperately wishing she would ask. There was a part of him that wanted to talk about his emotions, but another part of him that was terrified to admit what was bothering him.

The memory of the dream hovered in the back of Kon's mind, taunting him. It had felt so vivid and real, the duality of the pleasure of sex and the terror of hurting Tim. Kon  _ hated  _ hurting people. When Luthor had taken over his mind and made him break Tim's arm, he had holed himself up at the farm for months, unable to face what he'd done. The idea of hurting anyone, especially someone he loved, made him feel ill.

_ "I liked that you hurt me," _ Tim had said. Kon shuddered at the memory of those words. Kon had always felt conflicted about what had happened in Paris, but now, with the knowledge that he'd hurt Tim, even unintentionally, it felt like he was tearing his insides to shreds. He wanted to scream but his throat closed the moment he even thought about talking about it. How could he ever admit to anyone what he'd done?

With a sigh, Kon pushed away at his half eaten meal. "I'm going to go upstairs and lie down," he said.

"Alright," Ma said. "Want me to pack up your dinner for later?"

"Just give it to Krypto," Kon said, getting up and heading for the stairs. He'd been awake almost the entire night and whatever sleep he'd gotten hadn't been restful, and he was starting to feel the effects.

When he got to his room, Kon's eyes immediately went to the dent in the floor. He'd repaired it as much as he could, but it was still somewhat noticeable if you knew it was there. Kon took a deep breath and went about getting ready for bed.

Kon tossed and turned for a while, unable to fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Tim laid out beneath him, neck crushed by Kon's own hands. Kon sighed and shoved his pillow over his face, wondering if he could smother himself enough to pass out.

Groaning, Kon sat up and gathered his blanket and pillows. Maybe he would have more luck getting some sleep if he wasn't in his room. He slipped out of his bedroom window and flew out to the barn to try and get some sleep.

It was getting too cold in the year to be sleeping in the barn, but Kon had never really cared about the cold anyway. He spread his blankets out on the couch he'd set up out there and flopped down on it, hoping to get some sleep.

Surprisingly enough, it worked, and Kon dropped off to sleep a few minutes later. For a while, Kon was simply too tired to have much in the way of dreams. Kon simply floated in comforting blackness, weightless and formless, the smell of wet earth all around him. He drifted for a while, content to feel and see nothing, when suddenly he found himself in a pitch black place. There was nothing functionally different from before, but Kon could tell that it wasn't the same, and whatever this place was filled him with a sense of deep dread and fear.

Kon drifted forward some more, growing more and more anxious the further into the blackness he went. As he went, he heard the faint sounds of someone crying. Worried now, Kon kept going, the crying growing louder and louder until he found the source.

It was Cassie, huddled over something on the ground, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Kon reached for her, but found that he didn't have hands, he didn't have a body at all. He tried to speak, but there was no sound. Kon circled around Cassie, trying to get her attention, but it was like he wasn't there. He leaned over her, then noticed what she was cradling on the ground.

It was him.

Or, it was his body at least. Beaten and broken and bloody and dead. He stared down at himself, brain not really comprehending what was happening. Cassie turned her face to the sky and wailed in agony. The pitch dark ground they were kneeling on cracked and split at the noise, and Kon was knocked back, falling through the cracks and spiralling down.

When he landed, Kon heard someone screaming, the noise cutting in and out harshly. He quickly found the source to be Bart, clipping in and out of reality. One moment he was there, the next he wasn't, his form flickering as the Speedforce tried to absorb him. Kon tried to reach for him, tried to pull him back, but he couldn't touch him, he could only watch in horror as his friend faded away.

Bart howled and scrambled, the push and pull of reality on his body twisting him in unnatural ways. As he faded away, a harsh wind started to blow and began to sweep Kon up. He fought against it, but it was too strong, and it blew him away from where his friend disappeared into the Speedforce.

Kon didn't want to know where he was, he didn't want to know what the sounds of flesh impacting flesh and bones cracking was supposed to be. Against his will he was shown what it was. Tim was on his back, a huge, brutish figure above him, thrusting harshly into him. Every thrust slammed into Tim's body with the force of a train, breaking his bones and splitting his flesh. Tim fought against the figure, screaming and crying out in pain, but the figure was too strong. It grabbed Tim's arm and broke it, laughing as Tim cried. Kon didn't want to watch this, but he had no eyelids, no hands to cover his eyes.

The brutish figure thrust a few more times into Tim, reaching down to crush his neck as it finished with a moan. Tim's mangled body went limp, head lolling to stare at Kon with wide, dead eyes. The figure turned to look at Kon, a vicious grin on it's lips. With impossibly more horror, Kon realized who the figure was.

Superboy Prime.

Kon found his voice and screamed.

There was something over Kon, grabbing onto his hands as he struggled. Kon screamed and fought, trying to get it off. He didn't want to die!  _ He didn't want to die! _

"Kon!" a voice called sharply. "Kon wake up, it's just me!"

Kon opened his eyes, colour invading his sight and making it blurry. He blinked a few times and Clark came into focus. He was leaning over Kon, wrists caught in his hands tightly to keep him from flailing around, blue eyes filled with concern.

"Kon?" he asked, worry in every line of his body. "Are you okay?"

Kon leapt up, almost knocking Clark back. "Superboy Prime!" he shouted. "He was here! He had Tim! He was—!"

The memory of what Superboy Prime was doing made Kon gag and sway on his feet.

Clark caught him, grabbing hold of his elbows to stabilize him. "Kon!" he called, hauling him up a little. "Kon it's okay, he's not here, he's gone." Clark squeezed him where he was holding him, trying to ground him in reality. "He's gone, he can't hurt you."

Kon clung to Clark, hands fumbling to get a grip, fingers sliding on the slick material of his costume. "Tim—" he said shakily, trying to keep his thoughts straight.

"He can't hurt Tim either. Or anyone else. He's  _ gone  _ Kon, we made sure he was gone," Clark said, keeping his voice soft and soothing, trying to calm Kon down.

Kon's vision blurred, and he realized it was because he was crying. He tried to calm down, get himself under control, but the tears just flowed more freely. Kon hiccupped and began to sob, collapsing against Clark.

Clark wrapped him up in his arms, holding him tightly. "Shh, shh, it's okay," he soothed. "He can't get you anymore. I'm here now. He won't get you ever again."

Kon sobbed into Clark's chest, clinging to him like a child. Clark kept up a steady stream of soothing words, petting his hair and occasionally pressing his lips to the top of his head. After a few moments, Clark gently moved them to the couch Kon had been sleeping on, pulling Kon up so he was basically sitting on his lap. Kon should have been embarrassed, but he was still reeling too hard to feel anything but anguish.

Eventually Kon managed to calm down, going limp against Clark, breath hitching and hiccupping as tears still flowed down his cheeks. Clark rubbed his back gently and continued trying to soothe him, murmuring reassurances against Kon's forehead. Eventually Kon let out a long sigh, finally too exhausted to keep crying.

"You okay?" Clark asked. When Kon nodded against his throat, he continued. "You really scared me there. I heard you screaming and thought you were being attacked."

"Sorry," Kon mumbled, voice raw.

"No, don't be," Clark said, pressing a kiss to Kon's forehead. "You had a nightmare, a  _ bad  _ one, it happens."

Kon shivered and closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory of the nightmare. Clark shuffled around and tugged his cape out from under him, wrapping it around Kon's limp body.

"It's okay Kon. Superboy Prime is gone," Clark said. "I'd never let him hurt you, or your friends, ever again, okay?"

Kon nodded again, actually feeling somewhat better with Clark there. Clark was warm against him, still holding him bundled up on his lap. Most people felt cool or even cold to Kon temperature-wise, since Kryptonians ran a few degrees warmer than the average human. Clark was one of the only people who actually felt warm to him. The effect was rather soothing, and Kon was actually starting to doze off.

“Feeling better?” Clark asked.

“Yeah,” Kon sighed. He realized he was basically falling asleep in Clark’s lap like a little kid and flushed. “Sorry, I’ll get up.”

“No, it’s fine,” Clark said, smiling softly. “It’s actually kind of nice. I never really… I always wanted to do this with my kids one day. Always figured they would be smaller, but I guess it doesn’t matter much when you have super strength.”

Kon huffed a laugh, even though he inexplicably felt a little guilty. Clark had clearly always wanted a family of his own, and instead of the nice, perfect, normal family he got a teenaged clone who was also genetically half of his greatest enemy. Not exactly the American dream.

Seeming to sense Kon's thoughts, Clark wrapped his arms around Kon again and hugged him close. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

Kon sighed, letting his head drop to Clark's shoulder. "No, you probably have to finish your patrol."

"That's not what I asked Kon," Clark said. "Do  _ you  _ want me to stay?"

Kon closed his eyes. "A little longer?" he asked.

"Alright," Clark said, settling back against the beaten up old couch. Even with super strength, it couldn't have been comfortable with Kon on top of him, and Kon finally moved to sit next to him instead, though he leaned heavily into his side.

"I haven't thought about him in months," Kon said eventually.

"Who?" Clark asked.

"Superboy Prime," Kon said, shivering slightly. "He attacked me right outside this barn."

Clark squeezed his shoulder. "He's gone now Kon. He can't hurt anyone anymore."

"It's not that," Kon said. "I  _ know  _ he can't get me anymore, but that doesn't  _ matter _ , because he already  _ did _ . He  _ killed  _ me. He murdered me and he made everyone I care about suffer. My own dead body is still in the Fortress of Solitude waiting for the day it will be revived and I'll come back in time and be here, having nightmares about the guy who killed me!" Kon's voice had steadily raised in volume and pitch, finally choking off in a sob.

"Shhh," Clark soothed, reaching up to stroke Kon's hair. "I know, I know, it's really hard."

Kon took a few deep breaths. "Do you ever have nightmares? About Doomsday?" he asked.

Clark took a deep breath. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Every so often something will remind me of what happened and I'll get wrapped up thinking about it. How it affected all of the people I love, how it affected the world, how I very nearly could have just been dead," he explained, something hard and far away in his eyes. "For a long time, I didn't think about it, I didn't  _ want  _ to think about it. I wanted to just move on with my life, forget that it ever happened. But then I started getting these weird reactions whenever something reminded me of that day. I'd just shut down, go into a kind of automatic state where I was functioning, but in a kind of semi-conscious awareness."

"It started out small, a minute or so at a time," Clark explained, "but it started getting worse. I was spending hours each day in this state where I felt like I was piloting my body from somewhere else. I started to have gaps in my memory, and eventually it got to the point where I was locking myself in my apartment, terrified to go out and have something trigger me into that state."

Kon looked up at Clark, a bit shocked by all of this. He'd never even known how much Clark had suffered after his death. Kon remembered the things he'd said at The Dinner and felt like a heel. "I'm sorry, I didn't even realize," he said.

Clark threaded his hand through Kon's hair. "Don't worry about it. You were just a kid, I never expected you to have to deal with it."

Kon pressed his lips together, the words churning in his stomach before finally bubbling up. "Did I ever trigger you? Is that why you... why you didn't want me around?"

Clark sucked in a breath and held if for a moment. "A little, at first," he admitted. "But during that time,  _ everything  _ was triggering me. And besides that, it's not your responsibility to manage my traumas. It wasn't then, and it's not now. You were just a child, the result of some bad people making irresponsible decisions. It wasn't fair of me to blame you for your own existence."

Kon swallowed, trying not to internalize the knowledge that his mere presence had triggered panic attacks in the person he'd always wanted to think of as a father. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have been so mad that you didn't take me in back then."

Clark squeezed Kon tighter to his side. "You have every right to be mad. I'm the adult, I should have done something, even if it was just to find you a place to live while I sorted myself out."

Kon wanted to keep arguing, but felt like they would just get stuck in a cycle of apologizing and self-blame. "How did you get better?" he asked instead.

"It was Lois actually," Clark said. "She saw that I was starting to act strange and got me to start talking about what happened."

"And that fixed it?" Kon asked.

"No, I wouldn't say it 'fixed' it," Clark explained, "but it certainly helped. I still have moments where I—where it all comes back and I just freeze up for a moment, just a couple of seconds. And of course I don't think the nightmares will ever  _ completely  _ go away, but that's okay. The important thing is that I  _ am  _ alive, and I can continue living and being with all of the people I love."

Kon mulled that over in his head, picking at the information he'd just been given. He wanted to be grateful that he was back, that he had a second chance at life, but there was so much to consider that it felt overwhelming just to contemplate. All of the people who mourned him, all of the things that happened while he was gone, the memory of his own  _ death _ , it all threatened to drag him under its weight.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Clark asked softly.

Kon swallowed thickly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Maybe... not tonight though?"

"Okay," Clark said, leaning down to press a kiss to Kon's head again.

They stayed there for a while, Kon still wrapped in Clark's cape and leaning into his side. Clark kept his arm around him, stroking his hair occasionally. Kon was exhausted, his eyes raw from crying and the need to sleep. Clark was a solid, warm presence next to him, breathing deep and slow. Krypto found them and nudged his head onto Kon's knee, whining once in solidarity. The combined presence of them both started to put Kon at ease. Slowly Kon relaxed, letting the safety and comfort of his father and his four legged best friend wash over him.

* * *

The next thing Kon was aware of, he was waking up in his own bed in the house, Clark's cape still wrapped around him and Krypto snoring at his feet. He still felt exhausted, but it was the 'sleepy' kind of exhausted that came after a heavy sleep. Kon slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He reached for his phone and saw that it was still fairly early, enough for him to get a head start on his chores before school. Sighing, Kon got out of bed and untangled himself from the cape, folding it and laying in on his desk.

Out of habit he stretched his hearing out over the house, listening for any activity. Ma was asleep in her bed, though she was certain to wake up soon as well. A large sleeping mass in the guest room made Kon jolt before he realized that it was Clark, who had apparently tucked him into bed last night and then decided to crash at the farm.

Kon's chest felt inexplicably warm. He shook it off and got dressed to go out to get to his chores. Krypto hopped off the bed and followed right behind him, whining and leaning against him.

"Did I scare you last night too?" Kon asked, patting Krypto's side and scratching behind his ears. Krypto whined and licked his hand, following him like a shadow as he left the house.

Kon let his mind wander a little as he did his chores. His nightmare last night had been... something else. It had felt so  _ visceral _ , and even thinking about it now made Kon a little ill. Obviously his brain had gotten some wires crossed, imagining Superboy Prime doing something like  _ that  _ to Tim, but the point remained that Kon still had some lingering issues when it came to his own death.

"I mean, no shit," Kon said bitterly to himself.

It wasn't that Kon felt  _ he'd  _ been avoiding the subject, but that  _ everyone else  _ wouldn't touch the subject with a ten foot pole. Cassie had frozen up each time the topic came up, Ma brushed off attempts to bring up such 'unsavory' events, and Tim well,  _ that  _ was a whole caboodle of issues. Even things with Clark had felt like they were on such tenuous ground sometimes, so Kon hadn't brought it up until last night. Hopefully now he'd be able to talk about it a little more.

Kon recalled the conversation he'd had with Clark last night, stomach turning over when he remembered what Clark had admitted about feeling when Kon was 'born'. He didn't think he could really  _ blame  _ Clark for feeling the way he had, but it didn't exactly make him feel any better about himself. Maybe Clark wasn't the one he should be talking to, if there was going to be all of this baggage and hurt feelings between them? They should most certainly talk  _ about  _ the hurt feelings, but Clark perhaps wasn't the best person to talk to about his feelings surrounding his death?

Groaning, Kon tried to focus on his chores. Once he was finished in the vegetable patch and the greenhouse, he had to tend to the animals. The cooling weather meant everyone slept inside the barn, but it was still warm enough that they all got let out into the pens during the day. Kon fed the pigs and chickens, then went to milk the cows.

Kon had been milking the cows for a while, and had come to enjoy it. There was a rather relaxing rhythm to it, and the cows had a kind of soothing effect on him. Kon would lay his head against their big, furry sides as he worked, feeling them breathe deeply and matching his own breaths to them. It was as relaxing as taking a nap some mornings.

When Kon sat down on the stool next to the first cow, Persephone, he felt a prickle of anxiety up his spine and down into his finger tips. He tried to shake it off and bent to reach for Persephone's udder, but stopped. What if he hurt her? He was strong enough to rip cars apart, just a little extra pressure from him and he could rip her udder right off without meaning to. He could  _ kill  _ her if he wasn't careful. Everything around Kon was as fragile as wet paper in comparison to his strength. If he wanted to he could tear apart the whole barn, the whole farm, the whole  _ town  _ with as much effort as most people put into crushing a soda can.

Suddenly the air inside the barn felt stifling. His breathing became rapid and his heart pounded in his ears. The world tilted slightly and Kon fell off the stool and onto the straw. Persephone's ears perked up and she turned to look at him, dumb animal eyes curious. Her calf wandered around from her other side and walked over to sniff Kon, expecting pets and affection.

Kon leapt up and bolted from the stall, running right out of the barn. He took in huge lungfuls of cool morning air, trying to clear his head. Krypto circled him, barking and whining nervously. Kon ran his hands through his hair, trying to slow his heart. He'd milked the cows a thousand times, he knew exactly how much pressure to use, there was no reason for him to be freaking out. With a sigh, he straightened up and walked back to the house.

Ma and Clark were awake by now, making breakfast in the kitchen together and talking in low voices. Kon could guess from their worried tones that they were discussing his recent behaviour and his nightmare last night. They looked up as he came in, conversation ending abruptly and both of them putting on pleasant, neutral smiles.

"Morning Kon, how were your extra chores?" Clark asked, whisking eggs in a large bowl.

"Did you bring the milk in?" Ma asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kon's voice stuck in his throat. He couldn't speak. Clark set down his bowl and walked over, gently cupping Kon's cheek.

"You're white as a sheet Kon, are you okay?" he asked.

Kon swallowed thickly and shook his head, starting to tremble. He didn't know what was  _ wrong  _ with him. Clark frowned slightly and pulled him to sit down at the kitchen table. Ma busied herself making some tea.

"Tell me what happened," Clark said gently, rubbing Kon's back as he shivered.

"I don't know," Kon said, finding his voice after a moment. "I've done it so many times, I don't know why I freaked out."

"What happened?" Clark asked, putting a hand on Kon's knee. "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

Kon forced himself to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Ma put a mug of tea in his hands and he carefully sipped it. If he squeezed it too hard, he could crush it into dust and send hot scalding tea everywhere. He set the mug down on the table.

Clark waited patiently for Kon to get himself under control. Eventually Kon managed to explain what had happened in the barn, about the nightmare he'd had about hurting Tim, and even a little about how he'd accidentally hurt Tim in Paris—leaving out the parts where he'd been having sex with Tim in the dream and in Paris.

Clark took a deep breath, having stayed quiet while Kon explained. He squeezed Kon's shoulder. "I understand what that's like," he said quietly. "Once I was helping Pa patch the roof of the barn and he stumbled. I grabbed him without even thinking about it and broke his wrist. I felt awful."

"If you hadn't grabbed him, Jon would have fallen right off the roof and broke his neck," Ma said. "You saved his life."

"I know I did, but I still felt horrible," Clark said. "Sometimes it feels like it would be so easy to accidentally hurt someone just by touching them."

Kon shivered again. "How do you live with it?"

"Carefully," Clark answered with a wry smile. "It takes practice, and there's always a risk, but it's not difficult when you get used to it. You've lived your whole life until this point never hurting anyone by accident. I've seen you do impossibly delicate work Kon, I know you'd never hurt someone on purpose."

Ma knelt down in front of Kon and took his hands. "Sweetie, you remember the first time we had a batch of chicks hatch while you were here?"

Kon bit his lip and nodded, trying not to think about how he could squeeze and crush Ma's hands in his.

"You remember the one who got stuck? Too weak to get out of its shell?" Ma asked, voice soft.

Kon nodded again. "I got it out," he answered.

"You did," Ma said, squeezing his hands tightly. "You used that tactile telekinesis of yours and you got it out. Everyone wrote it off as a loss, too delicate to work on, but you didn't even hesitate. You were so gentle and delicate, and that little chick grew into the sprightliest rooster I've ever seen."

Kon smiled despite himself. The rooster in question had grown into having a psychopathic aggression problem and had attacked anything that moved, including the people trying to feed it. Eventually the hellspawn had picked a fight with the wrong opponent—their big white bull named Buster—and gotten kicked in the head. The rooster had spasmed and flopped around, its beak pulverized and bleeding badly from its face. Pa had had to put it out of its misery by breaking its neck. They'd all been more relieved than anything to be rid of the little antichrist, but Kon hadn't been able to help feeling a little mournful over the whole thing.

"See? You know how to be gentle Conner, I know you do," Ma said, smiling softly at him. "You just worked yourself up a little, hey? Nothing to worry about."

Kon nodded, dropping his head a little. Ma squeezed his hands again and he took a deep breath. Carefully, he squeezed back. Just slightly, just enough that she could feel it, but he didn't quite trust himself just yet.

Ma smiled at him and kissed the top of his head. "I'll go milk the cows today. You help Clark with breakfast," she said. She stood up and went to put on her boots. "Don't burn down my kitchen," she warned, then disappeared out the door.

"I think we can manage breakfast Ma," Clark called to her retreating back. He turned back to Kon. "You going to be okay?" he asked.

Kon took a deep breath. The world around him still felt too fragile, but he was slowly starting to unwind. He'd been living in this world with his strength for his whole life, he  _ knew  _ how to do it. He nodded at Clark. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Good," Clark said, standing up. "You finish whisking the eggs, I'll man the frying pan."

Kon nodded and got up, picking up the bowl Clark had left on the counter. He started off slowly, but eventually managed to remember how tightly he needed to hold something, how much force to put behind his movements. He could do this, he knew how to do this.

_ I liked that it hurt. I wanted you to hurt me. _

Kon shivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I was writing the first couple of chapters from Kon's perspective, I wanted to go into his feelings on his own death a little more, but I could quite get it right. I think I finally hit my stride with it here, but boy did I ever hit it. A lot of people said they thought it was very mature of Tim to not want to be in a relationship right now because he wasn't in the right mindset for it, and I kept thinking 'oh ho ho just wait 'til you see what I have in store for Kon' lol.
> 
> Also chickens are vicious and not to be trusted.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got **way** too long, but sometimes you just have to go with what your creative flow demands. I wasn't even sure what I was doing half the time but I think I'm pretty satisfied with it. I think I know what I'm doing from here on out but then again I could be fucking wrong.
> 
> Trigger warning for negative self-talk, intrusive thoughts, and I guess risky use of exposure therapy??

Kon stayed home from school for nearly a week, too stressed and anxious to face anyone. The nightmares persisted, always in the same vein; Superboy Prime, his own death, and Paris. Kon was exhausted and irritable, barely able to get through the day. He'd also suddenly developed an aversion to touching anyone who wasn't superpowered, terrified out of his mind that he'd accidentally hurt someone. For someone as tactile as Kon, it was difficult to suddenly not be able to touch or hug anyone, but even though he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to risk it.

Clark was trying to help him through it, slowly re-acclimatizing him to touch and using his strength and talking to him about his death and Superboy Prime, but it was frustratingly slow progress. He'd taken some time off of work and brought Lois to the farm to help, but nothing seemed to be working. Kon could hear him talking with Ma and Lois when they thought he was asleep about what to do with him. A few times Clark suggested bringing Kon to Metropolis to find a doctor that might be able to help him, but Kon couldn't help but shudder at the idea. Metropolis, with it's crowded streets and throngs of people, seemed like the worst place for him right now. Thankfully no one had brought it up to Kon's face yet.

The idea of talking to someone did seem like a good idea though, Kon couldn't deny that. He'd been talking to Clark about certain things, but he was leaving a fair amount out, especially about Paris and what he'd actually been doing in Gotham. He was also talking with Roxy on the phone every so often, but he didn't want to dump his problems on her when they were just rekindling their friendship. It also didn't seem fair to cry to Cassie either, what with how they were still figuring out how to navigate a post-breakup friendship.

Ironically, the one person Kon had felt like he could always talk to, who was finally speaking to him again after such a long absence, was also the person who had inadvertently caused this whole thing.

_ "Kon? Kon?" _ Tim called, the terrible connection making his voice crackle slightly.  _ "Hello, earth to Kon." _

Kon jolted up. "I'm awake!" he said. He scrubbed his eyes and looked back at his phone screen where he was FaceTiming Tim. "Hi, sorry, I'm here."

After finally speaking in Gotham, Tim and Kon had started speaking again. They'd started texting, and were FaceTiming almost every night, something Kon was grateful for when the nightmares made him too nervous to sleep. Technically Kon was still grounded and wasn't allowed to take personal calls, but he figured talking to his best friend counted as an emergency.

Especially knowing what kind of mindset Tim had been suffering for so long.

Tim smiled.  _ "If you need to go to bed, I won't be upset,"  _ he said.  _ "It's late there, isn't it?" _

_ Kon's hand snapping Tim's arm like a twig as he kissed him fiercely _ . "No, I'm fine," Kon said, shoving the nightmare away. "I can talk as long as you want."

Tim's smile softened and Kon's heart thudded. He wanted to tell Tim how beautiful he was, how happy he made him and how much he wanted to kiss him. He forced those thoughts away, knowing Tim didn't want to date right now.

"How have you been feeling?" Kon asked.

_ "Good, actually,"  _ Tim said.  _ "It's been a busy week, what with the prep work for the drug ring bust and all the stuff I need to catch up on at WE, but I'm good. I feel good." _

"And you haven't..." Kon winced, hating even considering it, "used your kit?"

_ "Haven't even felt the urge," _ Tim said.  _ "It's been weeks since I used it, anyway, but lately I've been feeling less and less like I need it." _

"That's good," Kon said, relieved. "I don't like the idea of you hurting yourself Tim."  _ I don't like the idea that you liked  _ me  _ hurting you _ , he thought.

Tim let out a long sigh.  _ "It's a little more  _ complicated  _ than that,"  _ he said.  _ "But enough about what I'm doing, how are you?" _

"Me? Oh, nothing much," Kon said with a shrug. "You know how it is. Farm life. Pretty boring."

_ "I've been out of the loop for  _ weeks  _ Kon, there must be something interesting going on,"  _ Tim said, eyes crinkling up like he did when he wanted to laugh.  _ "I heard that you and Clark are reconnecting. He set up a bedroom for you in Metropolis." _

"How do you even  _ know  _ that?" Kon asked.

Tim grinned and Kon wanted to melt.  _ "I have my ways." _

"Creep," Kon said, shaking his head. "But, yeah. After I came out, I guess it was a wake up call for Clark to finally step up and be a dad. It's actually going...  _ well _ . Like I'm spending weekends and stuff at his place, and he's actually spending time with me instead of just showing up to lecture me when something goes wrong. For the first time... he's acting like a  _ dad _ ."

_ "That's amazing Kon, I'm so happy for you," _ Tim said.  _ "I know that was something that had been bugging you for a long time." _

"Yeah, it's honestly been really great," Kon said. "But it's kind of bittersweet though, because it's like, where the hell was this drive to be a good dad when I  _ needed  _ him to be a good dad, right? Like it's not that I'm not  _ thrilled  _ he's paying attention now, but like, I spent  _ so long  _ wanting him to treat me like his kid. Like why now? After all this time?"

_ "Dad's are complicated,"  _ Tim said.  _ "My dad... I know he  _ loved  _ me, I know he was doing what he thought was best, but... he did a lot of damage. And of course just  _ saying  _ that makes me feel guilty as hell, because he'd dead and it feels...  _ rude  _ to talk about him like that." _

They lapsed into silence for a while, each stewing in their thoughts. Kon wanted to bring up that Clark had been hanging out at the farm with him to help him with his current touch aversion and nightmares, but that would mean going into his nightmares and what had triggered them. He really didn't want to have to put that kind of guilt on Tim right now.

_ "It's been nice to talk to you again,"  _ Tim said softly.

Kon looked up at the screen and smiled. "Yeah?"

_ "Of course,"  _ Tim said.  _ "You're my best friend, I missed you." _

Kon felt butterflies fill his stomach. "I missed you too Tim."

Tim let out a long sigh.  _ "Kon, I... I'm  _ sorry  _ about what I did." _

"I thought we covered this already?" Kon said.

_ "I mean how I pushed you away after," _ Tim said.  _ "I was so terrified of being gay, I couldn't handle even  _ associating  _ with anything that might make people think I was gay." _

"Which is why you freaked out when I came out that night," Kon said with a sigh. "And then I pushed you to talk in the kitchen and made it worse."

_ "You weren't wrong,"  _ Tim said,  _ "to try to talk to me. I pushed you away, I wanted to put as much distance between myself and anything that would make me have to consider what Paris meant." _

"Yeah, it's okay, I get it," Kon said. "I mean, I guess it wasn't really  _ okay  _ okay, but I forgive you."

_ "Thank you,"  _ Tim said, smiling softly.  _ "I wish I'd tried to talk to you about it though." _

"Well we're talking now," Kon said, "so that has to count for something."

Tim hummed.  _ "I feel a lot better now, about this. About... being gay." _

"Yeah?" Kon asked, smiling.

_ "I mean, it still terrifies me, but at least I  _ know _ now." _ Tim said.

"It  _ is  _ kinda scary," Kon admitted. "Honestly, I get scared sometimes too."

_ "Really?" _ Tim asked.

"Sure," Kon said. "I was pretty nervous that day at the Tower. 'Cause like, I mean, Bart and Cassie and everyone are our friends, but you never really  _ know  _ until you know, y'know?"

_ "Yeah," _ Tim sighed. He paused for a second and Kon waited, knowing he was working up to saying something.  _ "I think I want to come out to Bart and Cassie." _

"Yeah? That's great Tim," Kon said. "Cassie and Bart have been great about me being bisexual. They're going to be so supportive of you."

_ "I know they are, but..." _ Tim trailed off for a moment.  _ "Will you be there with me?" _

"Of course," Kon said. "Why wouldn't I be there with you?"

Tim blinked in surprise, then smiled.  _ "Thanks Kon, that really means a lot to me." _

Kon smiled back. "You should come by the Titans Tower this weekend. Everyone should be there, but we can all head out for coffee or something, just us four, and you can tell them then."

Tim chuckled a little.  _ "Young just us', do you remember?" _

Kon laughed. "God, that was so long ago. Or it  _ feels  _ like it was so long ago. We were all such kids."

_ "We're  _ still  _ kids,"  _ Tim said.  _ "We're not even old enough to vote yet." _

"It's so weird," Kon said. "So much has happened to us."

_ "Yeah,"  _ Tim said, voice going soft and a little sad. _ "We've really been through so much." _

Kon wanted to reach through the screen and hug Tim.  _ Squeeze him just a fraction too hard and he might crush his ribs. _ He wished he could make it better somehow, fix all of the bad things in Tim's life. There was so much that Tim had gone through just in the two years, and now that Kon knew just how badly it had effected him, he wished he could have done something about it.

_ If I hadn't died, I could have helped _ , Kon thought.  _ It's because I died that Tim started to spiral downwards so much. If I hadn't died,  _ none  _ of this would have happened. This is all my fault. _

_ "Kon? You okay?"  _ Tim asked.

Kon snapped out of his funk. "Huh? Oh sorry, dozed off I guess."

Tim pressed his lips together.  _ "Are you  _ sure  _ you're okay?" _ he asked.

"I'm sure," Kon said forcing a smile. "I do think I have to go now though, I hear Clark coming home."

_ "Alright, see you this weekend," _ Tim said, not seeming convinced at all.

They said their goodbyes and signed off. Kon managed to turn off his phone just as Clark was coming in the driveway. Pesky super hearing made it impossible to use his phone while Clark was in the house, but luckily Clark enjoyed going into town to run errands and was often waylaid by talking to someone he met in town. Kon managed to sneak at least an hour each day to talk with his friends.

Kon sighed and rubbed his face, going over their conversation in his mind. Tim wanted to come out to Bart and Cassie, and he wanted Kon to be there to help. Did he also want to tell Cassie about what happened in Paris? He hadn't mentioned it at all, but maybe he hadn't had the time? Even if he didn't bring it up, would Cassie get suspicious?

_ I cheated on Cassie with Tim. If she gets mad, that's my fault. I'm so fucking stupid. _

Groaning, Kon flopped face down on his bed and wondered if he couldn't just actually go back in time and fix things. Maybe Booster Gold could help him out. He had time travel technology and was probably stupid enough to agree to help Kon mess with his own timeline.

There was a knock on Kon's door. "Kon, can I come in?" Lois called.

Kon grunted loud enough for her to hear and she seemed to take that as a 'yes', opening the door and poking her head inside. "Hey kiddo, you want any lunch?" she asked. Kon let out another groan and she sighed and stepped inside. "Want to talk about it?"

Kon turned his head to look at her. She smiled encouragingly at him. Lois had been doing her best to help Kon through his issues this last week. This on top of all she'd been doing to get him and Clark to bond with each other over the weeks. She was doing her best to be a good Step Mom as well, trying to be there for Kon whenever she could.

Sitting up and pulling a pillow onto his lap—he felt better around people if he could grip something inanimate that couldn't be hurt if he couldn't control his strength—Kon scooted over on the bed so she could sit down. Lois sat on the bed and waited patiently for Kon to talk.

"Have you—" Kon started, but the words stalled. How much did he want to tell her? He swallowed and tried again. "Has Clark ever hurt you when he didn't mean to?" he asked.

Lois smiled. "Once or twice, but it's only ever been when he was really agitated or excited. I knew he didn't mean to hurt me."

Kon nodded. He'd heard this before, and he'd been trying to drill it into his brain, but it just wouldn't stick. Maybe he needed to dig deeper. "Has he ever hurt you when you were, um...  _ intimate  _ with each other?" he asked, face flushing red. "Not like, a  _ lot _ , but y'know, just enough that it did hurt a little bit?"

Lois went a little pink and coughed. "Well, maybe, but um—" she cleared her throat. "Kon, why are you asking this?"

Kon bit his lip and debated what to tell her. She was Clark's wife, his 'step mom', and he knew he could trust her. She didn't have as much history with him, but she was used to weird superhero drama. Maybe that was just what he needed, someone who was just at the edge of being a part of the situation. He'd tried to talk to Roxy about what he was going through, but they'd been apart for so long that it didn't feel fair to dump all of that on her. He'd also thought about talking to Bart, but that wouldn't be fair to Bart, who was also friends with Cassie and Tim, putting him in the middle. Maybe Lois was the person he needed.

Screwing up the courage, Kon told Lois about what had happened in Paris, and then in Gotham, as well as what happened with Adrian in Metropolis and how he was starting to work things out with Tim. He told her about what he'd talked about with Tim, about how Tim had told him he'd liked being hurt, about Tim's scars. Kon told her about his crazy nightmares and how he'd figured out he'd been in love with Tim this entire time.

When he finished, Lois looked at him in mild shock. A few moments of silence passed as she tried to think of what to say. "That's... a lot to have to go through," she said.

Kon groaned. "Tell me about it. It's been so crazy and I have no idea what to do about it," he said, wringing the pillow in his hands.

"Have you told anyone else?" Lois asked.

"No," Kon said. "I didn't think there was anyone who would be able to understand." He sighed and flopped back onto the bed. "I just feel like this is all my fault anyway. If I hadn't been such a big, stupid fuckup and gotten myself killed, none of this would have happened."

"Kon," Lois said softly, "You can't blame yourself for that. The only person responsible for your death was the person who killed you, and he's long gone."

"For now," Kon grumbled. He ground the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw spots. "I just wish I knew what the hell to do. I can't talk to Cassie because it'll just hurt her feelings, I can't talk to Bart because it'll put him in the middle and that's not fair, and I can't talk to Tim because he's... he's got his own stuff right now, I can't do that to him."

Lois hummed in consideration. "Kon, do you think Tim is a danger to himself right now?" she asked slowly.

Kon looked up at her. "I... I don't know. He  _ seems  _ like he's okay, but... I've never seen him like this. It was really bad when I saw him in Paris, and he said it get really  _ really  _ bad a while back, but he said that he hadn't cut in weeks now. The scars I saw were all healed, so I believe him."

"Do you think we should tell Bruce about this?" Lois suggested.

Kon sat up. "I can't do that, it would betray Tim's trust in me," he said.

Lois hummed. "Alright, leaving this aside for the moment," she said. "Kon, you said you started worrying about hurting people after Tim told you he liked that you hurt him during sex?"

_ Thrusting into Tim too hard and shattering his spine. _ "Yeah," he admitted. "I just—I didn't  _ mean  _ to hurt him, but he kept asking me to... do it harder." He felt himself flush.

Lois only raised an eyebrow. "Well, when people are...  _ intimate  _ with each other, things can get pretty intense. People get bruised and scratched, and sometimes it  _ can  _ feel really good for everyone. Sometimes people get really hurt, but that's usually by accident. This is between people who  _ don't  _ have powers at all," she explained. "What I would do is  _ talk  _ to Tim about this, and about what happened."

"I can't do that," Kon protested. "He's dealing with so much right now. I don't want to make it worse."

"Kon," Lois said, gently, reaching out to lay her hand on Kon's shoulder. He could stand people touching him for short periods, so long as they didn't grab his hands. "Do you really think Tim would want you to be suffering like this?"

"No," Kon grumbled. "But I don't want to upset him."

"I think he might be more upset the longer you keep this from him," Lois said. "He's your friend, he'd probably want to know, especially if the two of you are trying to work through what happened together."

Kon sighed. "I know," he said. "I just... I don't want to bother him with me being an idiot over nothing."

"You're not an idiot Kon," Lois said, "and this isn't nothing. This is actually quite serious. Are you sure you don't want to let tell Bruce about Tim hurting himself?"

Kon bit his lip. Tim said he was feeling better, but Tim was a very good liar. His scars looked healed when Kon saw them, but the rest of his body had been covered. Was he still hurting himself? Kon wanted to believe he wasn't, but could he be sure?

"No," Kon said. "I'll talk to Tim about it and see if I can get him to say something on his own."

"Alright," Lois said, "but if you suspect he might be in danger, he'd probably be happy that you help him in the end."

"Yeah," Kon sighed. "If I think he's gonna do something, I'll tell someone," he promised.

"Good," Lois said, smiling softly and giving his shoulder a squeeze. She pulled her hand away. "Do you want to have some lunch and then talk about it some more?"

For once, Kon actually felt hungry. "Yeah, I could eat."

"Great, Clark is making grilled cheese," Lois said, getting up from the bed. "Let's go criticize his cooking."

Kon chuckled and set aside his pillow. He stood up and began to follow Lois, then stopped. "Lois—I mean, Mom?"

"Yes hon?" she asked, stopping before the door.

"Can you not tell Clark about this please?" Kon asked. "I know you're married, but... I really don't want a lecture about unsafe sex or whatever."

Lois chuckled. "Alright, I won't tell him. We can just keep this between us for now."

Kon breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he thought Clark wouldn't understand, but he knew that Clark would give him the lecture of a lifetime about practicing safe sex and using protection. It would be super embarrassing and awkward for everyone involved. Plus... Kon was just starting to build a relationship with Clark, he didn't want to undermine that by telling Clark what a stupid idiot he'd been.

_ He's going to find out eventually _ , Kon thought, following Lois down the stairs.  _ He'll find out that I cheated on Cassie and fucked Tim when he clearly wasn't in his right mind enough to consent properly. He's going to realize that I'm a worthless idiot and abandon me. _

Clark was just flipping a sandwich onto a plate with two others when they walked in. He looked up and smiled at them. "Hey you two. You were upstairs talking for a while. Anything I should know about?"

_ Had he been listening this whole time? _ Kon wondered, heart starting to pound. Was he going to lecture him? Yell at him? Tell him to leave and never come back?

"Nope," Lois answered, walking over and kissing Clark's cheek. "Lunch smells good."

"Contrary to what my mother would lead you to believe, I do know how to cook," Clark said, rolling his eyes. He put another sandwich on the pan. "Kon, you feel like having something to eat?"

Kon looked down at the sandwiches. When he'd come down, he'd felt hungry, but now, thinking about what Clark was going to do when it all came out what Kon had done, he'd found he'd lost his appetite. "No, I'm not hungry."

"Really?" Lois asked, smiling at him. "You said you were hungry upstairs."

"I'm fine," Kon said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Have you eaten at all today?" Clark asked frowning. "You didn't have breakfast either."

"It's fine, I'm not hungry," Kon said.

Clark sighed and set his spatula down. "Kon, I know you're upset right now, but you need to take care of yourself. If you don't eat, you're going to get sick."

"I just... I'm not hungry," Kon said, hunching in on himself. When  _ was  _ the last time he'd eaten a full meal?

"I know," Clark said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Kon. "Can you try eating just a little bit? I'd feel a lot better if I knew you'd had at least something."

Kon leaned into the hug. Since this had all started, Clark and Krypto were the only two living creatures he'd been able to stand touching. It was starting to drive him crazy, but Clark had been generous with physical affection, seeming to know that Kon needed it.

_ He won't even want to look at me when he learns about what I've done.  _ Kon thought, the words coming along with a throb of a headache. he shut his eyes tightly and tried to enjoy the contact while it lasted.

Clark pulled away and squeezed Kon's shoulder. "How about one sandwich?" he suggested with a smile.

Kon forced himself to smile back. "Okay," he agreed. He really did need to eat something.

He sat down at the table and forced himself to eat, trying to keep up a conversation with Lois and Clark and eventually Ma when she came inside. Kon found he actually was quite hungry and managed to eat two grilled cheeses, much to everyone's relief.

Later that night, Kon sat up on the roof of the barn, looking up at the night sky. It was slightly cloudy that night, but not enough to completely block out the stars. Krypto sat at his side, head by Kon's knee so he was within reach for absent minded ear scratches.

Kon thought about what he'd talked about with Lois earlier. He'd told her everything, and had felt so much better afterward. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. In that moment, he'd felt so much better, but it had all crashed back down so quickly. Was he going to be like this forever? Unable to sleep from all of the nightmares and terrified to even touch someone? The thought made Kon ill. When had his life gotten so complicated? Why couldn't he just go back to the way things used to be.

With a sigh, Kon flopped backward on the roof, tossing a forearm over his eyes. Krypto whined and sniffed at his face, trying to determine if his boy was still okay. Kon gave him a pat and he settled down, head resting on Kon's chest. He pulled his arm away and looked up at the sky again, wondering what Tim was up to.

_ Probably doing something important and protecting his city while I mope around like a pathetic loser _ , Kon thought.  _ What am I even doing here? Why do I even exist? I was made to be a replacement for Superman, but Superman came back, so I'm just redundant. I should just give up. _

Kon's eyes stung, and he realized he was crying. He sat up and sniffled, rubbing his eyes. Krypto jumped up and licked his face, whining and yipping. Kon sputtered, but he couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Krypto, down," he chuckled. "Silly dog, I'm fine."

Krypto whined and barked again, looking up at Kon with big worried eyes. Kon sighed and wrapped his arms around his dog, burying his face in his white fur and letting the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I don't think I'm fine buddy," he mumbled.

Krypto let out a sympathetic whimper and crawled onto Kon's lap. Kon shuffled him around so he was sort of carrying him and patted his sides. They stayed there for a while, Kon letting the tears fall and wallowing in his own misery.

A pinging noise made Kon look up. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the notification that popped up. It was a text from Bart, excited to hear that Tim was finally coming back to the Tower that weekend. Kon felt himself smiling.

Kon didn't want to talk to Bart about what happened with Tim. The three of them had been friends almost as long as Kon had been alive, and Kon didn't want to put Bart in the middle of the two of them. But... Bart had died, for the same amount of time that Kon had, and from the same event. Was he having nightmares too? Maybe Kon could talk to him about that?

It had felt better, to talk to Lois about what happened, and Kon had talked to Bart about their deaths before. Taking a deep breath, Kon scrolled through his contacts and pressed call.

The line hardly got through one ring when Bart picked up.  _ "Hey buddy, get my text?" _ Bart answered.

"Yeah I saw," Kon said.

_ "Isn't it great? It's been ages since Tim's come to the Tower. I get that he's like, busy being amazing, but c'mon, I missed him,"  _ Bart said.

Kon bit his lip. "Yeah, he's been... busy," he said, not sure how much he should say.

Bart could be annoyingly perceptive however, and Kon could just picture him narrowing his eyes.  _ "You know what he's been up to?" _

"I... know what's been going on with him," Kon admitted. "But I—"

There was a gust of wind and suddenly Bart was standing in front of him, phone in one hand and foot tapping like an annoyed parent.

"Dude," he said, "you know what's been going on but you haven't said anything? We've all been so worried! Why didn't you tell us?"

Kon sighed. "It's more  _ complicated  _ than that. And it's not my place to say anything either. Tim... needs to tell you himself."

Bart's expression softened. "Is he okay?"

"I... I think he is," Kon said, scratching his neck. "But it's... I shouldn't be telling you anything. I don't want to betray his trust."

Bart sighed. "Yeah, okay," he said. He sat down next to Kon on the roof. In the dark he hadn't been close enough to see clearly, but now that he was right next to Kon he noticed the tear tracks. "Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

Kon rubbed his face, his hands coming away wet. "I... I just haven't been feeling well lately."

"Want to talk about it?" Bart offered.

Kon nodded. "Yeah, that's kind of why I called," he said. He dragged his heel across the roof, scraping off a few flakes of dirt. "Do you have nightmares about dying?"

"Yeah, all the time," Bart said. "Don't you?"

"I didn't, until about a week ago," Kon said. "Now I can't close my eyes without seeing him."

"Him?" Bart asked.

"Superboy Prime," Kon clarified. "I keep thinking how fucking stupid I was, dying like that."

"You saved the world," Bart said.

"Yeah, by dying like a fucking idiot," Kon hissed. "I keep thinking about how fucking stupid it all was. How if I hadn't died, none of this would be happening. Tim, Cassie, all of the people I love, they all suffered because I was too much of a  _ stupid fucking moron _ to keep myself alive!"

Kon hadn't realized that he'd been starting to raise his voice until Krypto barked at him, jumping up and pacing around him. His hands were clenched into fists, muscles bunching like he was about to fight something big. Kon slowly tried to relax.

"That's a lot of negative self talk," Bart said, looking stunned and concerned. "How long have you been talking to yourself like this?"

"Ever since—" since he'd talked to Tim and learned that he'd hurt him without meaning to, "—about a week ago, I guess."

"What happened a week ago?" Bart asked, he raised one brow up towards his giant floof of hair.

Kon clammed up. "I... can't tell you," he said, averting his gaze.

Bart narrowed his eyes. "Is it something to do with Tim?" he asked.

Busted. "I don't want to say anything that'll betray Tim," he said.

Bart made a frustrated noise. "Buddy, I love you like a brother, but you're being really frustrating. I'm  _ trying  _ to help."

"I know, thank you," Kon said. "I just... it isn't fair."

Bart huffed. "Yeah,  _ of course _ it's not fair. Newsflash,  _ none of this is fair _ ! It's not fair that you're a clone made out of two mortal enemies out to destroy each other. It's not fair that I got cheated out a childhood because of my powers. It's not fair that Tim thinks he always needs to handle everything on his own because he doesn't want to bug us with his problems. It's not fair that Cassie's been feeling alienated from us since you broke up with her and she feels like she can't talk to us anymore because she's the leader and she has to put up a strong front. It's not fair that we  _ died _ !  _ Nothing  _ about  _ anything  _ is fair!" Bart finished with a shout, throwing up his hands.

"But we stick together," Bart said sternly. "We stick together and we  _ make  _ it fair. We're  _ Young Just Us _ , when we've got no one we've got each other." He got up on his knees and gripped Kon's shoulders to look directly at him. "But I can't help you if you don't  _ let  _ me.  _ Please  _ talk to me. Aren't... aren't we friends?"

Kon blinked, stunned by Bart's outburst. "I—I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize you felt like this." He'd had no idea Bart felt so strongly about this, he'd always seemed so carefree.

Bart squeezed his shoulders. "You guys, you and Tim especially, get all wrapped up in yourselves and you forget that I've been with you since the beginning," he said sadly. "You can talk to me Kon. I want to help."

"I'm sorry Bart," Kon said. "I didn't mean to shut you out."

Bart sighed and sat back down on the roof. "It's okay," he said. "Well, not really, but I forgive you." He wagged a finger at Kon. "You guys have to stop treating me like I'm a dumb kid. I've done a lot of growing up since we were hanging out in the Justice Cave."

Kon couldn't help but smile. "Yeah you have. You're probably the smartest person on the team after Tim," he said. "You just don't act like it."

"I have chaotic dumbass energy," Bart said, grinning widely. "Now, can you  _ please  _ tell me what the heck is going on with you?"

Kon took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Okay. So I'm not going to tell you what's going on with Tim, that's his business and I don't feel comfortable telling you without his permission."

"Fair," Bart agreed.

"But the gist of it is that I hurt Tim. I didn't  _ mean  _ to hurt him, I didn't even know that I  _ had  _ hurt him. And now I just... I can't even  _ touch  _ someone who doesn't have super strength without being scared out of my mind that I'll hurt them."

Bart looked up at Kon. "Do you  _ want  _ to hurt anyone?"

"No, of course not," Kon said.

"Did you want to hurt Tim?"

" _ Never _ , it was an accident."

"Okay, so," Bart shrugged, "you've lived this long without hurting anyone. The one time you  _ did  _ it was because Luthor was being an asshole, and from the sounds of things you didn't hurt Tim enough to actually do any damage."

"No, I guess I just bruised him up a little," Kon said. "I just... I'm  _ so  _ strong Bart. I could rip your head off if I wanted to."

"You'd have to catch me first," Bart huffed. "Kon, you've been this strong your entire life, and maybe once or twice have you ever hurt someone badly without meaning to. You  _ know  _ how strong you are, you know  _ exactly  _ what it would take to hurt someone badly."

"Yeah," Kon said, shivering at the memories of his dreams.

"So," Bart said, "you also know exactly how to  _ not  _ hurt someone."

Kon blinked. "I mean, I guess that's technically right?"

"It takes about ten pounds of pressure per square inch to break the typical human wrist," Bart said. "You know how much that feels like?"

"More or less," Kon said.

"Alright, so," Bart said, holding up his hand, palm facing Kon, fingers spread like a starfish, "don't break my hand."

Kon swallowed. "I don't know..."

"It's called exposure therapy, it's fine," Bart said. "And even if you break my hand, I heal super fast. It'll be fine. I trust you."

Kon made an uncomfortable whine in his throat, but brought his hand up to face Bart's. Ten pounds of pressure per square inch wasn't much, especially for Kon, but he  _ did  _ know how hard he needed to press for that. Taking a deep breath, he rested his hand against Bart's. Bart pushed against him and Kon matched him, keeping them steady against each other. Slowly, so Kon could pull away if he wanted, Bart laced his fingers through Kon's and squeezed. Kon took a deep breath and did the same, squeezing carefully.

Bart smiled at Kon. "See, you know what you're doing."

Kon looked down at their joined hands. He  _ could  _ crush Bart's hand if he wanted to, pulverize it to mush, but... he wasn't. He was just holding it, something he'd done probably a million times before. He knew he could rip apart everything for miles and hurt a lot of people, but he'd never in a million years actually do that.

"You're in control here buddy," Bart told him. "You get to choose."

All of a sudden, Kon felt completely relaxed. "I'm in control," he said. He looked down at their hands and squeezed a little tighter, grinning when Bart squeezed back. "Yeah, I know what I'm doing."

"Told you," Bart said. He put up his other hand and Kon immediately took it, threading their fingers together to squeeze.

Kon breathed a sigh of relief. "Geez." he let go of Bart's hands and flopped down on the roof. "I can't believe I worked myself up so bad over this."

_ Stupid fucking idiot. _

"Well it sounds like you've got a lot going on," Bart said, lying down next to Kon. "That can mess you up in a lot of ways."

Kon sighed. "Yeah, it's been... a weird couple of weeks."

"Wanna talk about it?" Bart asked.

Kon shook his head. "Nah, not right now," he said. He'd wait until after Tim talked to everyone that weekend.

"Okay. Want me to stay anyway?" Bart offered.

"If you want," Kon said. He suddenly felt exhausted. "I think I'm just going to go to sleep though."

"Can we sleep inside? It's cold out here," Bart complained.

"Baby," Kon said, but he got up anyway.

"Not everyone has impenetrable skin," Bart huffed.

Bart held out his hand again and Kon took it, gently wrapping his hand around his wrist and flying them to his bedroom window. Bart swung in and immediately ran around, finding an old t shirt and sweatpants to wear and changing while Kon blinked. He crawled into Kon's bed and flopped down. He was about to curl up in Kon's blankets when Kon caught him by the ankles and pulled him off the bed.

"What makes you think you get the bed?" Kon asked, very conscious of gripping too hard, keeping Bart steady with his TTK.

"I'm a guest," Bart huffed.

"Guests are invited,  _ you  _ just showed up," Kon huffed, setting Bart down onto the floor. "I should make you sleep in the barn with the other strays."

"That's cold," Bart said, pouting up at him.

They argued back and forth for a while, eventually settling into the bed together, Bart somehow managing to steal all of the blankets and cocoon himself in them, snuggled into Kon's side. Kon worried for a moment that he might have a bad nightmare and hurt him, but he was too tired to think about it for long.

Kon dreamed that night, but it was different this time. It wasn't quite as vivid, as visceral as it had been for the last week. He still dreamed that he twisted Tim's arm too hard and ripped it from its socket, but the images seemed faded, like he was watching a movie. For once, Kon's dream actually felt like a dream.

When Kon woke up, he startled awake with a jolt, but without his heart pounding in his chest or his skin crawling and drenched in sweat. Compared to the last week, he felt like he'd slept like a baby. Kon sat up and stretched, noticing that the sun was high in the sky. Frowning, he checked his phone and swore when he noticed it was past noon. Leaping out of bed, Kon spared a moment to notice that Bart must have tucked his blankets around him when he left that morning.

Lois was sitting in the living room when Kon got downstairs. He could hear Ma and Clark out on the farm, taking care of the chores. Lois turned and smiled at him. "Hey kiddo, you're up late."

"Sorry," he said.

"It's okay," Lois said. "We're all just happy that you finally got some sleep. Bart did eat your breakfast though."

Kon grumbled a few unkind things, but left aside revenge for the moment. He crossed the room and sat next to Lois on the couch.

_ I'm in control _ , Kon thought, carefully leaning over and wrapping Lois up in a hug. Lois made a surprised noise but returned the hug, looping her arms around his torso and squeezing him tightly.

"Thanks," Kon said. "For listening yesterday."

"You're welcome Kon," Lois said. "I'm always here to talk if you need to."

Kon smiled and squeezed her just a fraction tighter. 740 pounds of pressure to crush a human ribcage, he was well under that threshold, he was in control.

"Hey now, what's this?" Clark's voice carried through the room as he stuck his head in through the door. "Are we all hugging again?"

"Turns out Bart was right," Lois chuckled.

"That's great!" Clark said, smiling brightly. He crossed into the room proper and gathered both of them off of the couch to pull them into a bear hug. "I'm so proud of you Kon."

Kon laughed and leaned into the affection. A moment later Ma joined them and Clark scooped her up in his arms as well. They ended up tumbling over and collapsing on top of Clark on the couch, but they were all laughing. Kon still had to keep track of his strength in his head, and he was pretty sure there were still a half a dozen landmines in his head that were waiting to go off, but he could handle it. If he just kept working to get better, he could stay in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So before anyone loses their minds over the "I'm in control" bit, I want to clarify a few things. Yes, I did that deliberately, no I didn't do it to show that Kon is about to go off the deep end and start becoming obsessive and start self harming like Tim was. I wanted to use the same phrase in two different contexts to show that words can have different meanings to different people. In this context, it's something positive for Kon. In the context of Tim, it was something negative. It's the same phrase, but no two people are alike, no two situations are alike. What's going to work for one person isn't going to be the same for another, but that's just how the world works. In any case, don't get yourself into a tizzy over it, this is a good things.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the first half of this chapter already written before the other one, which is why this one got done so fast. I was also super excited for this chapter because there was a moment I was just dying to write. It came out really good and I'm super happy with it.
> 
> Trigger warnings for gun violence.

Red Robin stole across the rooftop, careful to make as little noise as possible so as not to spook his quarry. He'd been tracking them all night, most of his effort going into making sure they didn't notice him until the perfect moment. He'd almost been caught twice, but managed to evade detection. He had to wait for the perfect moment to reveal himself, otherwise the whole plan would fall to pieces.

Red Robin's target finally moved into an optimal spot and Red Robin held his breath. A second went by, another, it seemed like his target was finally staying still. Red Robin took a deep breath and circled around to the side of his quarry. Revealing himself from behind his target would just make him jumpy and more likely to attack.

When he was finally in position, Red Robin took a deep breath and spared a thought to hope he didn't get shot. This in mind, he jumped down from his hiding spot and into the light.

Red Hood immediately drew his gun and took aim, ready to shoot, then groaned when he realized who it was. "God dammit, I nearly shot you," he grumbled, holstering his weapon.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Red Robin said, walking over to him, hands visible and posture relaxed.

"What do you want?" Red Hood huffed, crossing his arms in a bid to make himself look bigger and more intimidating.

"We're taking out the drug ring tomorrow night," Red Robin told him, getting straight to the point. "We've got their current base and are gearing up to flush them out. We've been working with the GCPD to set up traps at each location, but me and the others are taking the most likely and most dangerous spots." He paused for a moment. "We could really use the extra help, if you want in."

"Pass," Red Hood said. "No way am I getting close enough for pointy ears himself to catch my scent. You guys are on your own."

"Figured you'd say that," Red Robin said, shrugging a shoulder casually. "I thought I might let you know anyway, in case you wanted to steer clear of the sites we'll be at."

Red Hood scoffed. After a moment he turned back to Red Robin. "Which sites will you be at?" he asked. "So I can avoid them properly."

Red Robin stifled a grin and rattled off the addresses. There were three addresses that were the most likely; they were leaving the GCPD the 'easiest' one, which was easily surrounded and had limited points of access that were easily blockaded. The other two were trickier, so Batman and crew were going to be on site in case things went south. With any luck, the ring leaders would head for the more easily accessed site, but Red Robin had never really believed in luck.

"Nightwing, Batgirl, and Batwoman are taking point at the LeVay site," Red Robin explained, "while Batman, Robin, and I will be at the Morrissey site."

"The Morrissey site?" Red Hood asked. "Wouldn't it make more sense to have everyone there, or at least more than three? It's got at least a hundred blind spots."

"It was too risky to leave the LeVay site under-guarded," Red Robin said. "It's not ideal, but we're hoping to set up a few cameras here and there to mitigate the blind corners."

"And compromise the site?" Red Hood asked. "You could tip them off to the trap."

"We're a bit limited on options," Red Robin said. "But we're doing our best with what we have."

"Someone is going to get shot," Red Hood pointed out.

"We could get shot right now," Red Robin said, gesturing to the rooftop they were standing on. It was decently covered, but it also overlooked the city and could be seen from quite a few vantage points.

Red Robin couldn't see Red Hood roll his eyes, but he knew it was there. They stood on the roof for a while longer, looking over the city. Just as Red Robin figured it was time for him to say his goodbyes, Jason spoke up.

"Feeling any better?" he asked.

Tim inhaled deeply, taking in the dank city air. "Yeah," he said on the breath out. "Yeah I've been getting better."

"Good," Jason said.

Tim remembered the last time he'd seen Jason, curled up on the couch with Roy and Kori, the tilt of Jason's head looking like he was leaning in for a kiss from Roy. Had he imagined that? He certainly hadn't imagined how close they all were, cuddling on the couch. It might have been completely platonic, and the 'kiss' just a trick of the light.

But Tim had to know.

"So Kori and Roy," Tim said, "you guys are close?"

"We're dating," Jason answered.

Tim looked up. "You're dating?"

"Yup," Jason said.

"Dating... Kori?" Tim asked, not sure he was understanding it correctly.

"No, Roy and Kori," Jason said.

"... Roy and Kori are dating?"

"No!" Jason snapped, throwing up his hands. " _ We  _ are dating! All three of us! Roy, Kori, and me! All together!"

"Oh," Tim said, somewhat surprised. He'd had his suspicions about Jason and Roy, but all three of them?

"It's called polyamory, look it up," Jason huffed.

"I know what it's called," Tim said. He hesitated a moment, shifting his weight. "So you—I mean—you like... both?"

Jason shrugged. "I don't really care," he said. He tilted his head in a way that made Tim guess he was glaring. "Do you?"

"No! I mean I—" Tim bit his lip. "I  _ care _ , but it's because...  _ I'm...  _ like that... too. I'm... I'm gay."

Jason stared at Tim for a minute, his helmet impassible. "Okay. So?"

Tim let out a breath. What else had he expected? Jason was an equal opportunity asshole, and apparently a queer one as well, he wasn't going to care about Tim coming out as gay.

Jason watched Tim for another minute. "This was one of the things that was bugging you, wasn't it?" he asked.

Tim gave him a nod. "But you've got it all figured out now?" Jason asked.

Tim nodded again. "Well congratulations, you're officially a queer now," Jason said. "Mazel tov."

Tim snorted. "You're such an asshole," he said.

"You want me to throw rainbow coloured glitter at you? Fuck off," Jason huffed, but there was a smile in his voice. He turned and looked out over the city. "I should get back to work."

"Same," Red Robin said. There was a lot to prepare for tomorrow and he still had to finish patrol.

Red Hood crossed the roof to the fire escape. "See you around," he called.

"But not tomorrow," Red Robin said, not bothering to hide a grin.

"Not tomorrow," Red Hood agreed, then dropped out of site.

Red Robin scoffed and shook his head. He turned and walked away from the roofs edge, mentally listing everything else he would need to prepare for tomorrow.

* * *

The Morrissey site was an old paper printing factory that had been abandoned decades ago, though it had hardly remained empty since. Since Morrissey Printing LDT had gone belly up, the building itself had changed hands a half a dozen times. It had been a new age art gallery, the headquarters of a tech startup, a hipster rave club, as well as a dozen or so other things, none of them lasting more than a year. The whole building should have been torn down years ago, but it was still structurally sound from the numerous renovations. However, because of said renovations the whole place was a maze of tangled hallways and dead ends interspersed with both open rooms and tight spots of snarled machinery. It was perfect if you were trying to avoid getting caught, but a pain in the ass if you were trying to catch a slippery bunch of drug lords.

In theory the plan was quite simple; flush the drug ring out of its current hidey-hole, wait for them to show up at one of the other hidey-holes, then trap them there and make the arrests. In practice, there were at least five places that needed to be watched, with another half dozen that were possibilities too likely to simply leave out. That was already a lot of manpower needed to cover that many locations, and some of them were difficult to cover without tipping off the drug ring. Normally they wouldn't even consider doing something on this scale with this much room for error, but people were dying every day from the contaminated drugs, so they couldn't wait.

In practise, the whole thing took about a half an hour to collapse.

It had held together surprisingly well at first. There were nine people total in the ring, not counting the distributors on the street, which was laughably small for all the damage it was causing. They arrived right within the window Red Robin had predicted and started setting up in one of the larger rooms, unaware that they were being watched. Carefully, Red Robin, Batman, and Robin had closed off all entrances but one, hoping to trap them and funnel them towards the waiting arms of the police. It had nearly worked, but Red Robin hadn't counted on the group attempting to take a stand instead of trying to avoid them.

With semi-automatic weapons and explosives, no less.

"America, what the fuck?" Red Robin hissed, hunkering behind a snarl of leftover machinery as two people fired at him. "It's  _ way  _ too easy for people to get their hands on these things."

_ "Perhaps you should have taken that into account  _ before  _ dropping us into a firefight,"  _ Robin snapped.

"How was I supposed to know they'd just decided to spec into the gun business as of  _ yesterday _ ?" Red Robin grumbled. He had to move or otherwise he was going to get clipped by a ricochet.

_ "We're almost there Red Robin, hold on tight,"  _ Nightwing said in his ear. The other three were travelling from the LeVay site to help, but they were still minutes out, and every second counted.

"Take your time, no rush," Red Robin said, taking a smoke grenade out of his belt and tossing it in the general direction of the shooters. Someone yelped and the shooting stopped for a moment. Red Robin took the opportunity to find better cover.

He didn't get far. Though the two shooters were panicked and confused, coughing an blind from the smoke, and one of them apparently decided shooting blind was better than not shooting at all. He had the wherewithal to aim vaguely in the same direction as he'd been shooting, and Red Robin had to dive fast to get out of the way. As he tucked himself behind another set of machinery, a lucky bullet found its mark in his calf.

Red Robin swore, pulling himself as tightly as possible behind his barricade. "I'm hit!" he said into his comm. "I'm hit and I'm pinned down."

_ "Wait there, we're coming," _ Batman growled through the comm, possibly through gritted teeth.

Red Robin hunched down, trying to staunch the bleeding from his calf. It wasn't bleeding heavily, meaning it had luckily missed an artery, but there was no way Red Robin would be able to run on it without excruciating, fatally distracting pain. His best hope was to wait for Batman to get to him before the thugs figured out he was defenseless.

A shot rang out, not machine gun fire, but a pistol, followed immediately by a yelp. There were shouts of confusion and suddenly the shots were being aimed at some other corner of the room. Red Robin stole a peek over his cover and grinned when he caught a glimpse of red. With the thugs's attention occupied, Red Robin was able to ready a flash-bang birdarang and flung it into their midst. It went off without a hitch, and in the resulting confusion, each thug fell, either to friendly crossfire or to Red Robin's rescuer.

Once the shooting had finally stopped, Red Robin let out a sigh of relief, slumping to the ground. His calf throbbed in pain and he hissed. Now that the adrenaline was fading, the pain was starting to make his head swim. He also had the added pleasure of his brain confusing the pain of the bullet with the pain of cutting, due to the placement of the wound. Red Robin's head swam, his brain wanting to both panic and calm down at the same time.

Red Robin was so distracted that he only noticed Red Hood when he crouched next to him. "You good kid?"

"Yeah, fine," Red Robin said, shaking off the strange floating feeling. He grinned up at Red Hood through the pain. "I knew you'd show up."

Red Hood scoffed. "And I knew you were going to get shot," he said. He leaned over and inspected the wound. "Not bleeding much. You probably won't die," he said, even as he took out a pressure bandage to bind the wound.

"Thanks for the assessment," Red Robin said. "You should probably go, Batman will be here any second."

"One sec," Red Hood said, finishing applying the bandage. "Hold pressure on that until you can get it stitched."

"I know how to not bleed out, thank you," Red Robin said. They stood there for a moment, staring at each other, the only other sounds being the groans of the thugs Red Hood had taken out.

_ You could stay _ , Tim thought. The way Jason was hesitating to leave made Tim think he wanted to.

There was a bang across the room as Batman smashed through a door. Red Hood swore and took off, vaulting over Red Robin and disappearing around a corner. Batman reached Red Robin, still propped up behind his barricade.

"Are you hurt?" Batman demanded, looming over him, staring hard at the direction where Red Hood had disappeared. Red Robin knew he wanted desperately to follow, but he wasn't about to leave him while he was injured.

"Took a bullet in the calf, minimal bleeding," Red Robin said, shifting on the ground to keep pressure on the wound. "Bullet is still inside."

Batman growled and finally turned his full attention to Red Robin. His frown deepened when he saw the pressure bandage, but he made no comment as he scooped Red Robin into his arms.

"I can probably walk if I lean on you," Red Robin protested.

"Gravity would make it bleed more," Batman pointed out. He carried him through the twisting halls towards the other side of the building where the Batmobile was parked. At some point Robin melted out of the shadows to walk along beside them. He had a scratch on his cheek but otherwise seemed unharmed.

They reached the Batmobile just as Nightwing pulled up on his motorcycle. "What happened?" he demanded, striding over.

"Bullet wound in the right calf," Robin answered before Red Robin could say anything. "He doesn't seem injured otherwise."

"We're going to Leslie's," Batman growled, leaving no room for argument. They could have gone back to the Cave, Tim wasn't hurt that badly, but Bruce always got testy when one of them got shot.

"I'm coming along," Nightwing said sternly, also not likely to budge.

Batman grunted in acknowledgment and helped Red Robin buckle in, elevating his leg as best they could in the back seat. Robin crawled into the front and Nightwing was already speeding off on his motorcycle. Tim sighed and laid down, drifting in and out of the present.

He jumped slightly when they pulled to a stop behind Leslie's clinic. Batman gave him an odd look through the rear view mirror. "Is the pain too much?" he asked.

"No, it's fine," Tim said, trying to keep himself awake and present. "It's not the worst I've ever had."

Batman gave an unhappy grumble, but wasted no time in getting Red Robin out of the car and into the clinic. Leslie had already prepared a room, Nightwing having arrived ahead and warned her. She clucked her tongue at them as they came inside.

"I have other patients that I need to attend to, you know. I can't always be looking after you bunch," she said, bustling around the room and gathering supplies.

"Sorry Dr. Thompkins," Tim said, pulling his cowl and cape off. His gloves and belts followed and then his blood went cold as he realized he was going to have to strip out of his pants.

The bullet was in his calf, where all of his scars were. If the others were in the room while he got stitched up, they would see them.

_ Shit. _

"Drake?" Damian asked, watching Tim with an odd look. "Are you alright?"

"Tim" Dick asked, turning his attention onto him. "What's wrong? Is it the pain?"

"Leave," Tim said, the word jumping out before he could stop it. "I want everyone to leave the room."

Dick exchanged a glance with Bruce. He turned back to Tim, face pinched. "Tim... I know that we haven't been talking, but—"

"It's not that," Tim cut him off. "I just don't—I want everyone out."

Dick looked confused now. "We've seen you in your underwear before Tim," he said. "You don't have to be shy."

"He said leave," Leslie said, voice cutting as sharply as a scalpel through the air. "He's an emancipated adult, he's legally entitled to refuse to have people in the room while he's being treated. Get out."

Bruce turned to glare at her. Leslie glared back, unaffected. With an unhappy grunt, Bruce stalked out of the room, pulling his cowl back on as he went. He spared one last glance at Tim, but Tim averted his gaze, unable to stand the concern in his eyes. Robin followed along behind Batman, and finally Nightwing left the room, glancing behind him one last time before the door closed.

"Want to tell me what that was about?" Leslie asked, continuing to prepare her supplies.

Tim said nothing, but finally convinced himself to finish stripping. He folded his pants and set them aside, aware of Leslie's eyes on his sliced up calves. Tim laid back and tried to focus on the pain, tried to keep himself from falling into that headspace where bleeding made him feel better.

Thankfully, Leslie didn't ask anything else as she got to work, numbing the area and extracting the bullet. She worked in silence as she stitched the wound closed, though Tim could feel the tension in the air. It wasn't until she'd finished wrapping the wound that she said anything.

"Did you want something to reduce the scarring?" Leslie asked.

Tim looked up at her. She crossed the room and brought out a little jar of salve. "You'd have to wait until the stitches come out, but this can help the scarring," she held it out to Tim. "It works on slightly older scars as well."

Tim stared at the jar for a moment, then took it, holding it in both his hands. "Thank you," he said neutrally.

Leslie sighed and sat down on the table next to him. "I'm assuming your father doesn't know?" she asked after a moment of silence.

Tim shook his head. "I stopped a couple of weeks ago," he said. "It's fine."

Leslie sighed. "You're a legal adult, I can't tell your family about this without your permission," she said. "Do you  _ want  _ me to tell them?"

"No," Tim said.

"Are  _ you  _ going to tell them?"

Tim took a deep breath. He had his hands full just coming out as gay to his family and friends, telling them about his mental state seemed like too much. He'd told Kon, but no one else, not even Steph. The only other person who knew was Jason, and that was by accident.

"I don't know," Tim answered finally. "It's... complicated."

Leslie nodded. "I understand," she said, getting off of the table. She fished around in a file folder and pulled out a pamphlet. "I know you guys are all cagey about therapists, but there are resources available. Anonymous phone lines, online chat options, stuff like that," she said, handing him the pamphlet. "Take it so I don't have to sneak it into your stuff."

Tim could help but smile. "Thanks," he said, taking the pamphlet. He wouldn't use it, they both knew that, but he grateful she cared.

She found him a pair sweats to change into, as there was no way he was going to be able to shimmy back into his uniform pants without tearing his stitches. He looked a little funny in the cowl, shirt, and a pair of sweats, but he was being taken out the back anyway. Batman was the only one waiting for him, Robin and Nightwing having left already.

"Keep it elevated and rested for two weeks, then we'll check the healing progress and start physical therapy. Avoid walking on it as much as possible," Leslie instructed. "I'm prescribing some preventative antibiotics on top of your pain medication. With your spleen being gone, I don't want to risk you getting an infection."

"Thank you Leslie," Tim said, smiling at her. The pamphlet was tucked away in his folded up cape.

Leslie gave him a nod and walked off down the hall. The clinic was busy tonight, and she didn't have time to stand around being sentimental.

Batman helped Tim into the car, thankfully letting him lean on him this time instead of carrying him. Once Tim was buckled into the passenger side, Batman started driving them home.

It was quiet as they drove, the city passing them calmly. It seemed after all of the excitement at the Morrisey site, the rest of the city had decided to call it in early. Still, Batman cruised the streets slowly, eyes on the streets to scan for anything out of the ordinary. Tim dozed in the passenger seat, watching the city go by. It felt slightly nostalgic actually, riding in the Batmobile next to Batman after a long night. How many times had he done this over the years as Robin? He'd felt so content those nights, even when things had gone sideways. It hadn't always been good, but Tim had never been uncertain in his conviction to be Robin. He'd been so sure of his mission then, it had all seemed so simple.

Then it all got complicated.

_ Are  _ you  _ going to tell them? _ Leslie had asked. Tim hadn't really made plans to tell anyone about nearly killing himself, not even Kon. At the same time, he sometimes felt resentful that they  _ didn't  _ know, because  _ how  _ had they not noticed? Tim hadn't been well in ages, this had been going on for so long, how had no one noticed? Hadn't Dick promised to always be there for him? Bruce was the best detective in the world, couldn't he see that Tim was suffering?

Tim shook it away. It wasn't fair to be resentful when he'd spent so much time and energy hiding how bad it had gotten. Tim looked over at Batman, calmly driving them through the streets. There was a lot he'd never told Bruce, never told anyone. He'd been speaking to Kate about his issues instead of going to Bruce. He hadn't even told Bruce his sexuality, how could he even start to tell him about everything else?

Suddenly Tim felt like he should say something. The air felt too charged not to. Words tripped over themselves in his chest, vying for attention. Tim took a deep breath.

"Bruce?" he called, voice soft. He sounded young.

"Red Robin." It was an admonishment as much as an acknowledgement. They weren't supposed to use their real names while still out on patrol.

" _ Bruce _ ," Tim insisted. This was something for his father, not Batman.

Batman tilted his head towards Tim, one eyebrow probably raised under his cowl. He reached over and pressed a button on the dash, muting all communications. Anything urgent would beep at them, but everything else would leave them alone.

Bruce pulled his cowl off. "Yes Tim?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

Tim felt the words strange in his throat. Tim knew Bruce was okay with gay people, he was fine with Kate, and he never had anything negative to say about anyone else's sexuality. Tim  _ knew  _ that, but his heart still clenched in his chest, that niggling little sliver of  _ what if? _

"Tim?" Bruce asked, turning slightly to look at him with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Tim looked up at Bruce, felt the concern in his eyes, his voice. As much as it made Tim guilty to consider, Bruce had been his father long before Jack Drake had died. He'd done more to raise and protect Tim than anyone else in his life. He didn't deserve to be lied to.

"I'm gay," Tim said.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Alright," he said, turning back to the road.

Tim waited, but nothing else came. He wanted to ask Bruce what he meant, but it felt too intrusive. Was Bruce disappointed to have a gay adopted son? Did he just not care one way or the other? Tim didn't know what would be worse.

They continued driving, Tim trying not to work himself up any further. If Bruce was upset with him, he'd certainly say so, wouldn't he? There was no reason Tim should assume Bruce was angry with him, or disappointed or anything other than acknowledging of Tim's sexuality. He was probably just processing the information and Tim was freaking out over nothing.

Tim was so wrapped up in his head that he didn't notice the turns they'd taken until Bruce pulled up his cowl again. He pulled into the lane and paused to turn to Tim. "Your favourite is still chocolate, right?" he asked.

Tim blinked, noticing finally that they were at the 24 hour ice cream place they'd used to stop at sometimes when they called it an early night. They're little secret from Alfred they'd used to say, though Tim was certain Alfred knew each time. The first night they'd done it, Tim had been so surprised. He hadn't really thought or Bruce, of  _ Batman _ , as someone who'd stop to get ice cream. It had made Tim start rethinking how he saw Batman; he wasn't only the hero of Gotham, protector of the people, and scourge of criminals everywhere, he was also a man who sometimes bought his protégé ice cream, just because he felt like it. It had taken Tim a while to realize that it was that moment that made Tim start to see Bruce not just as the Batman, but also a mentor and someone he could depend on.

A father.

Suddenly, Tim understood. He smiled. "Cass's favourite is chocolate. Mine is—"

" _ Mocha _ , right," Bruce said. He drove them up to the speaker and rolled down the window.

Tim let Bruce order, only speaking up to order an extra scoop. He pulled his cowl back on when they drove up to the window, sitting up for a moment to dig through the glove compartment for the cash Bruce kept there. When the service window rolled down, the teen behind it spooked, startled by the giant black  _ Batmobile _ .

"Uh, two waffle cones?" the teen asked.

"Yes," Batman answered, voice low but not as growly as he used with criminals, the 'civilian' Batman voice.

"Uh, that'll be nine fifty please," she said.

Batman handed over a $100 bill. "Keep the change," he said.

The teen balked for a moment and Tim fought not to laugh. It was always funny to watch people react to Batman doing regular things, like ordering from a drive thru.

Eventually the teen handed over the ice creams. One scoop of dark chocolate and two scoops of mocha, with extra napkins. Bruce handed Tim his and drive off, flicking on the cruise control so he didn't have to concentrate as much on driving.

Tim relaxed into the seat, enjoying his ice cream. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, really. Bruce wasn't the type of person to leap for joy, declare how proud he was of Tim for coming out to him. That wasn't the way he expressed himself, it wasn't his style. Bruce's style was quiet acceptance, actions over words, ice cream instead of platitudes.

Mocha ice cream had a slightly bitter aftertaste to it, but that night it had never tasted so sweet.

Bruce drove around for a while longer, giving them plenty of time to enjoy their ice cream without having to have Alfred give them a lecture about unnecessary sugars. Tim was, as always, very careful not to spill anything in the car, knowing Bruce would be cross with him if he got the car dirty. By the time they pulled into the Cave they'd finished their ice cream and hidden the evidence.

Tim allowed Bruce to help him out of the car and carry him up the steps to the changing rooms. Once Tim had washed and changed, Bruce carried Tim up to the house and to his room. Tim could have used his crutches (that would now be useful for more than his cover), but it felt nice to be carried, to be so close to Bruce after so long keeping his distance.

"Need anything before bed?" Bruce asked, settling Tim down on his bed.

"No, I should be fine," Tim said.

Bruce nodded and turned to leave. "Bruce?" Tim called before he could go.

"Yes?" Bruce asked, turning back to Tim to give him his full attention.

Tim stared up at him for a moment. "Thank you."

Bruce didn't smile, but his eyes softened. He came back to the bed and sat down next to Tim. Carefully, he pulled Tim into his arms, pressing his lips to Tim's damp hair.

"You're welcome Tim," he murmured.

Tim closed his eyes and sank into the hug. One of Bruce's large, calloused hands came up to gently stroke through his hair. Tim was exhausted after the day's ordeal, and it was so nice to be held like this. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Bruce's strong, protective arms.

The last thing Tim was aware of before he fell completely asleep with the hazy memory of being tucked into bed, the phantom sensation of a kiss pressed against his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So two different reactions to someone coming out, not much else to say. I had a lot of fun writing the ice cream scene, I just love the idea of Bruce not really 'saying' anything and instead using his actions. It seemed to fit him more.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got done so fast, damn. The wonders of hyperfixation I guess. Anyway, not too much to say about this one. There was a scene at the end I sort of wanted to do, but in the end I chose to do something else so I'll save it for another time.
> 
> No trigger warnings this chapter really. EDIT: triggers for f slur and use of the q word

Tim had planned to go to San Francisco that weekend to meet with Kon and Bart and Cassie, but he was under strict orders to rest his leg, and there was no way Alfred was going to let him sneak out on his watch. Tim had resolved to postpone meeting with everyone until he was back on his feet, but Cassie had put the kibosh on that.

_ "It's not hard to get to Gotham, why don't we all just come to you?"  _ Cassie said over the group video call.

_ "Yeah man, we can all just come see you," _ Bart said.

"I don't want anyone to go out of their way for me," Tim said.

_ "Dude, we all have either superspeed or flight or both,"  _ Kon pointed out.  _ "It's more convenient for us to come to you than to wait for you to get your butt to the Tower." _

_ "Tim, we haven't seen you in  _ weeks _ ,"  _ Cassie said.  _ "We want to hang out. We miss you." _

Tim felt his chest warm. "Okay," he said, "I'll let Alfred know you guys are coming."

_ "Sweet! Alfred makes the best snacks!"  _ Bart crowed excitedly.

The weekend rolled around and Tim was waiting anxiously in the media room he'd taken over while recovering. He'd promised to come out to Cassie and Bart today, but he was honestly considering backing out. He knew that Cassie and Bart were fine, and of course Kon already knew, but he'd been coming out to a lot of people recently, and it all seemed to be going so well. Things never went well forever, especially for Tim, and he wasn't sure he wanted to risk it with his friends. Maybe he should wait for a while, just to make sure.

"Master Tim?" Alfred called, startling Tim out of his own head. "Mister Conner Kent has arrived."

Tim sat up on the couch and tried to shake off the negative thoughts. "Okay, thanks Alfred."

Alfred gave a nod and disappeared. A minute later Kon came through the door, carrying a bag of snacks. "Hey Tim," he said, smiling fondly.

The two of them had been calling most nights, but this was the first time they had seen each other face to face since the morning they'd talked. Kon looked a lot more tired and worn out than he had the last time Tim had seen him, which Tim thought was odd. They'd been talking nearly every night, but Kon had never mentioned anything that was bothering him. Was it something new that Tim hadn't heard about, or had Kon been keeping something from him.

Kon set his bag of snacks down on the coffee table and sat down next to Tim on the couch. "How are you feeling? How's your leg?"

"It's healing," Tim said, shifting his leg on the pillow it had been propped up on. "It mostly just hit the muscle, so it's more painful than actually damaging. I talked to Leslie on the phone, and she said the repeated damage done to it might slow the healing process a little bit."

"Anything I can do to help?" Kon offered.

Tim smiled and shook his head. "No, that's alright," he said. "Just talking to you again helps."

Kon smiled brightly, cheeks going slightly pink. Tim willed his chest to stop fluttering. "Is there anything going on with you?" he asked, hoping to distract himself.

The smile faded from Kon's face and something dark flashed across his eyes. "I'm fine," he said.

"Are you sure?" Tim asked. "You don't look fine. Is there something going on that I should know about?"

Kon looked away and scratched the back of his neck. "I... I don't want to worry you," he said. "You've got so much going on right now."

"Kon," Tim said softly, reaching over to rest a hand on his arm. "I'm going to worry if you tell me or not. Actually, I might worry  _ more  _ if you don't tell me."

Kon let out a weary sigh, then turned to smile at Tim again. "Why don't we talk about it later, okay? When we've got more time before Cassie and Bart get here?" he suggested, laying his hand over Tim's. His touch was gentle, almost feather-light.

Tim nodded. "Okay, promise?"

"Promise," Kon agreed. He perked up at that moment and turned towards the door, taking his hand off of Tim's and moving back slightly.

A second later, Cassie entered the room, smiling brightly when she caught sight of Tim. "Hey, long time no see!" she said, crossing the room to wrap her arms around Tim's neck from over the back of the couch. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Tim said, leaning back into her. She smelled like fresh air and was slightly damp from flying.

Cassie gave him a slight pinch and leapt over the couch, slotting herself between him and Kon. "Then you should have called, you butthead."

"Sorry," Tim said, smiling sheepishly. "It's been... I've been busy."

Cassie hummed and leaned over to start sorting through the snacks Kon had brought. "Too busy to hang out with your bestest friends?" she teased.

"Something like that," Tim said, trying to shut out the worst of the memories from the last few months. "I... got sick actually."

"Sick?" Bart asked, entering the room with a flurry of wind. "You should've said something, we would have brought you soup."

"Yeah man, you were gone for like, weeks," Cassie said. "If you were that sick, you should have told us."

Tim glanced at Kon, who was watching him with a half worried, half knowing look. "It wasn't really that kind of sick," Tim explained. "Let's not talk about it right now. I want to know what's up with you guys."

Cassie raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Kon, but Kon had busied himself rearranging the snacks on the coffee table to accommodate everything Bart had brought with him. She glanced between the two of them suspiciously, but decided not to pry further.

They spent the next hour catching Tim up on the latest gossip from their lives. It hit Tim how much he'd missed everyone. He'd been shutting himself off for so long, it was like he'd forgotten that he  _ had  _ friends, people who loved him and wanted to be around him. For the first time in what felt like ages, Tim found himself smiling and laughing genuinely, nothing on his mind but hanging out with his best friends.

"Mm, also, before I forget," Cassie said, licking powdered sugar off of her fingers from the donuts. "I've been thinking about it, and I think I might be bisexual as well."

Tim jolted, nearly spilling his soda on himself. "O-oh?" he asked.

"Yeah," Cassie said. "I started thinking about it after you came out," she leaned over and nudged Kon with her shoulder, "and then I started doing some research. Then I had an epiphany while I was watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine." She shrugged. "I'm like eighty-two percent sure I also like girls."

Tim blinked. Had it been that easy for her? He glanced over at Kon and caught his eye. Kon gave a short but pointed look before turning his attention to Cassie. "That's really great Cass, I'm proud of you."

Cassie grinned and nudged him again. "We should totally go out and wingman for each other sometime. That would be so boss."

Kon chuckled. "Yeah, that would be pretty fun," he agreed.

"I try flirting with a girl, she says she's into guys, and I'm just like, 'cool, let me introduce you to my friend'," Cassie said. "Or whichever, it works with any gender."

Kon laughed, the sound ever so slightly strained. "That would be pretty cool actually."

Bart hummed from where he was sitting on the floor. "While we're on the subject, I'm pretty sure  _ I'm  _ not straight either."

_ This is getting ridiculous _ , Tim thought. "Oh yeah?" he asked.

Bart shrugged. "Yeah I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm not gay or bi, but I'm pretty sure I'm queer," he said. "Maybe like, what's the one called where you don't really like anyone sorta?"

"Asexual?" Kon suggested.

"Eeeeehhh," Bart said, face pinching slightly. "Nooo, doesn't feel right either."

"Are you thinking of demisexual?" Cassie asked.

"What's that one?" Bart asked.

"It's where you don't feel sexual attraction to anyone until you've formed an emotional bond," Tim explained, trying to stay focused in the present.

"Maybe," Bart said. "Whatever, it doesn't really matter in the end. Whatever I am, I'm sure as heck not a hetero."

Cassie snorted. "Wow, we really do flock together, even when we don't realize," she said.

Tim felt something icy-hot travel up his spine. "Sure," he said tersely. Suddenly the air in the room felt too stifling. "I need to use the bathroom," he said, hauling himself up. He grabbed his crutch and started hobbling out of the room.

He didn't get far before the was a light touch at his elbow. "Tim?" Kon asked. "You okay?"

"How is it so  _ easy  _ for you?" Tim hissed through clenched teeth. "How can you guys just  _ do  _ that?"

"Tim," Kon said softly, "they didn't know."

"They were so  _ casual  _ about it," Tim said. "Just, 'oh yeah, I'm not straight, please pass the chips.' I've been tearing myself apart over this and they just...  _ said  _ it."

Kon looked like he was at a loss for words. "It's different for everyone," he tried.

"Why does it have to be different for  _ me _ ?" Tim asked. "Why does everyone else get to be so... so  _ normal  _ about it? Why am I such a damn  _ freak _ ?"

"Tim," Kon said, stepping forward.

"I hate this," Tim said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I  _ hate  _ it. They can just come out and  _ say  _ it and I had to go through so much to just get to the point where I don't want to  _ die  _ because I can't even admit it to myself."

"Hey now," Kon soothed, pulling Tim into a gentle hug. "It's okay. You're okay."

Tim took deep, shuddering breaths. He should have been happy for his friends, but all he wanted to do was scream and shout about how unfair it all was. They got to be okay with it, they got to keep living their lives while Tim had to suffer. Tim got to be depressed and suicidal and everyone else got to be just fine and dandy.

"Is it me?" Tim whimpered into Kon's shirt. "Is it just me that's fucked up?"

" _ No _ , of course not Tim," Kon said quickly. "It's not your fault. There's nothing wrong with you. It's just... bad luck and shitty parents," he said. "You were a little kid and your parents did a bunch of shitty things to you. And it's not fair and you  _ should  _ be able to be casual about it, but it's  _ okay  _ that you're not. It's okay if you're struggling with it because everyone's different, and everyone struggles in their own way. It's not your fault."

Tim swallowed thickly, clenching his eyes tight against the sting of tears. Kon gently rubbed his back, murmuring soothing words to him. After a few minutes of forcing himself to take deep breaths, Tim managed to calm down. He went limp against Kon, letting out a deep, tried sigh.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak out," he said.

"It's okay," Kon said. "I wasn't expecting it either."

"God, what are the odds?" Tim said, standing up straight again and wiping his eyes. "That they'd come out the same day I was planning to? That we'd all end up being queer?"

"Search me," Kon said with a shrug, smiling brightly. "Feeling better?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay now."

"Good," Kon said. "Do you still want to tell them today? It's fine if you don't want to."

"No," Tim sighed. "I said I was going to tell them, so I should tell them."

"Alright," Kon said. "How's your leg?"

"Sore," Tim said. "I'm not supposed to be walking on it as much as possible. I think I moved too fast when I left the room."

"Here, let me help," Kon said, holding out a hand for him to take. Tim smiled and fitted his hand in Kon's, immediately feeling Kon's TTK supporting his leg.

"Neat trick," Tim said as they slowly walked back to the media room.

"Thanks, happy to help," Kon said, thumb stroking gently over the back of Tim's hand.

Bart and Cassie were talking in low voices when they got back to the room. Tim was suddenly conscious of his hand in Kon's, but Kon held onto him until he got back to the couch, helping him settle back down on the L section where he'd been laid up with pillows and blankets.

"You okay Tim?" Cassie asked. If she was suspicious of him and Kon, she didn't show it.

"I'm fine," Tim said, stuffing another pillow under his leg. He leaned back with a hiss, his leg throbbing in pain. He reached for his pain medication and swallowed them down with a gulp of soda. "Sorry."

"It's okay man," Bart said, though there was something in his eyes. He glanced at Kon for a second, but Kon shook his head. "Anyway, I brought video games, if anyone is interested."

"Sure," Tim said, trying to relax through the pain. Kon sat down on the couch next to him, as Cassie had moved over to the other side.

Bart set up the game and they settled on a racing game. Very quickly it became a competition to the death as they all did their best to destroy one another. Tim's outburst was forgotten, set aside so everyone could continue enjoying each other's company.

"Shit!" Kon swore as his little avatar was knocked around by a pixelated bomb. "Whoever did that better  _ hope  _ I don't catch up to them."

"Eat my dust, Super-scrub," Bart said, grinning deviously.

"I will destroy you when you least expect it," Kon hissed, trying to get his avatar back on track. Cassie's avatar zipped passed him and he cursed.

"Gotta do better than that," Cassie crowed, laughing as she navigated some tricky turns.

"Tim, buddy, get in the  _ game _ ," Bart said, passing Tim for a second time.

" _ You  _ try doing this with a bullet hole in your leg and high off pain meds," Tim huffed, trying to get his avatar around a corner. His reaction times were completely shot, and he couldn't get his fingers to cooperate.

They trash talked each other through several races, then did the same through a fighting game. Eventually it was determined that Tim wasn't in much shape to actually play the games Bart had brought and they settled on a single player game, something Tim could watch while the others played.

"You have to wait to honk until just the right moment, the guy hits his thumb with the hammer," Bart said.

"Cool," Cassie said, staring at the screen to wait for the right moment. They all laughed when the little animated man hit his thumb with the hammer and cursed.

"You really are a horrible goose," Kon said, giggling as Cassie ran around honking.

Tim smiled, relaxing into the couch. His leg ached, but he felt floaty and calm. He almost felt like dozing off, but he was having too much fun to sleep and miss hanging out. He noticed that the sky was starting to darken outside.

He needed to tell the others soon, Tim realized. It was getting close to the time when they'd all be heading home, and Tim would miss his chance. He'd said he wanted to tell them today, and who knew when he'd be able to see them like this again.

Taking a deep breath, Tim sat up a little. "Can you pause for a sec?" he asked.

"Yeah, hold on," Cassie said, making her goose run away with a knife. Once she was safe, she paused and turned to Tim. "What's up?"

Tim swallowed and forced himself to take steady breaths. "So uh, you know you both came out as queer earlier?"

"Yeah," Bart said. "Why?"

Tim tried to force the words up, but they got caught in his throat. Why was this so hard for him? Cassie and Bart and even Kon all those weeks ago had done it so easily. Why was he the only one struggling?

Suddenly there was a warm hand on his shoulder. Kon smiled at him. "It's okay Tim," he encouraged, giving Tim's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Tim?" Cassie asked, leaning over to give him a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

Tim felt the warmth from Kon's hand seep into him and melt the ice in his belly. He took one last deep breath and pushed the words out. "I'm gay."

There was a beat of silence before Bart threw up his hands. "I can't believe it!" he shouted. "We're  _ all  _ queer?"

Tim couldn't help it, he laughed. The absurdity of it all was just too much. After a second they were all laughing, collapsing on the couch and floor, Tim threw and arm over his eyes as he laughed so hard his eyes started to water.

"God, I can't believe how difficult that was," he said.

"Is that why you got all worked up earlier?" Cassie asked through her laughter. "Sorry, I didn't mean to steal your thunder."

"No no, it wasn't that," Tim said, wiping his eyes. "It was—it was—" More tears spilled down Tim's cheeks, his voice choking as his throat tightened. Tim suddenly realized he was crying for real.

"Tim?" Cassie asked, smile fading. "Honey are you okay?"

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Tim said, trying to wipe away his tears before they could spill. "I don't know what—" he sniffled and cut off with a sob. He was aware of everyone watching him, but he couldn't stop himself now that he'd started.

"Shh, hey, it's okay," Kon said, scooting over and tugging Tim into his arms. He tucked Tim's head under his chin and rocked him gently. "It's okay now, you did it. I'm so proud of you."

Tim hiccupped and buried his face into Kon's shirt, whole body shivering. He felt relieved but completely overwhelmed. All of that build up, all of that worrying, and now he'd done it. His best friends knew that he was gay and it was all fine.

A light, firm hand landed on Tim's head and stroked his hair. Another hand settled on his back and gently rubbed up and down his spine. His friends gathered around him, doing their best to soothe him, make him feel better. Tim closed his eyes and shuddered, letting out a long sigh.

Eventually Tim managed to stop crying. He sniffled a few times and wiped the tear tracks from his face. "Sorry," he rasped, voice raw.

"It's okay," Cassie said, petting his hair some more. "We get it."

Tim blew out a long breath. "This is kind of why I wanted to do it in public. No way I could make a fool of myself that way."

"You did fine," Kon said. "It's not your fault, remember?"

"You already knew?" Bart asked, raising an eyebrow at Kon.

There was a look exchanged between the two of them that Tim couldn't decipher. "Yeah, Tim already told me," Kon admitted. "I promised to be here to support him when he told you guys."

Cassie's fingers stalled in Tim's hair. "Did you think we'd react badly?" she asked.

Tim shook his head. "No, not at all," he said, "I just... there's been a lot going on lately."

"You know you can talk to us Tim," Bart said, hand still rubbing gentle circles on his back. "We're all here for you."

"Yeah, we've got your back," Cassie said, gently tugging his hair so he tilted back to look at her. "You can count on us."

Tim smiled up at her. "Thanks guys," he said. "It's just... been a bad year."

Cassie's eyes softened. "Yeah, I know," she said sadly.

Tim leaned back into her and she bent down to wrap her arms around his neck from behind. The two of them had been the ones to watch each other spiral out of control the most. Cassie had seen how far Tim had fallen after Kon and Bart's death, she'd witnessed the darkest, most obsessed parts of him. Tim wished he had reached out to one another more, but the hurt had been too much for either of them to handle and they'd ended up pulling away from each other instead.

Cassie sighed and gave him a squeeze. "I'm sorry Tim," she mumbled.

"It's okay," he replied softly.

She gave him a squeeze before sitting down on the arm of the couch. "Well, at least it's all better now, right?" she said with a smile. "We're all together again and that's what matters."

Tim smiled up at her. "Yeah," he said.

"Okay, I think that's enough being sad for now," Bart said. "I think now's the perfect time for more snacks."

With that, Bart disappeared for a few seconds and reappeared with four bags of jumbo marshmallows, dumping them over Tim's head. Tim laughed and threw one of the bags at Bart, who only caught it and began snacking away.

"I can't believe we all ended up queer," Cassie said, grabbing a bag for herself and tossed another to Kon.

"We should rename ourselves," Kon said, ripping into the bag. "Young Queers."

"Young Queer Us," Bart suggested.

"Queer Justice," Tim said.

"A Bunch of Gays and Whatever the Heck Bart Is," Cassie said, making everyone laugh.

"Two of us are bi," Kon pointed out through his giggles. "So it would be 'Two Bi's, a Gay, and Bart'."

"I like that name, we sound like a band," Bart said, stacking his marshmallows together. He stuffed them into his mouth and tried to chew with varying success.

"We could be a band," Cassie said. "An awesome queer punk band who moonlights as a team of super heroes. Sounds awesome."

"Do any of you even play instruments?" Kon asked. "I mean I can play a little guitar and some ukulele, but I haven't played in ages."

"I played triangle in band class," Cassie said. "Not well though."

"I'm sure I could learn something," Bart said with a shrug. "What about you Tim?"

"I used to play piano when I was little, but it was mostly connected to the ball dancing classes I took," Tim said.

"God, I keep forgetting you were born rich," Cassie said. "You did all that snooty rich people stuff. Did you ride horses? I bet you rode horses."

"Equestrian sports were a gym elective. I chose gymnastics," Tim said.

"I hate you," Cassie said. "I honestly can't tell if you're serious or bullshitting us."

Tim laughed, feeling much lighter than he had in ages. "I really missed you guys."

"We missed you too," Bart said. "You went AWOL for so long, we were getting really worried."

"Sorry," Tim said. "I just... wasn't feeling well."

"Yeah, you said you were sick, right?" Cassie said.

"Yeah, something like that," Tim said, stuffing another marshmallow in his mouth.

"What were you sick with?" Bart asked. "You were gone for weeks, it must have been serious."

"Guys, lay off a bit, okay?" Kon said. "He'll tell us when he's ready."

"No, it's okay Kon," Tim said. "The truth is... I wasn't really 'sick' in the usual sense."

"What do you mean?" Cassie asked. She went a little pale. "It's not like, cancer or something, is it?"

"No," Tim said quickly. "No I don't have cancer. Honestly, cancer might have been easier to deal with." He took a deep breath. "What happened was... I was... ugh, it might just be easier to show you."

Tim pulled up his uninjured leg and reached for the hem of his pyjama pants. His fingers twitched slighted and Tim felt his heart pound. He'd already come out as gay to everyone, but could they handle this? He couldn't back out now though, he'd already started telling them.

Taking a deep breath, Tim closed his eyes and lifted the hem of his pant leg, exposing his calf, and all of the scars climbing up towards his knee. He heard Cassie suck in a sharp breath and Bart make a noise in his throat. There was the crinkle of plastic as Kon clenched his bag of marshmallows in his fist.

" _ Tim _ ," Cassie breathed. "What  _ happened _ ?"

Tim kept his eyes closed. "I couldn't handle it," he said. "I couldn't accept that I'm gay, but it was getting harder to deny everything. Everything that was happening at home, everything from the last year." Tim shivered and dropped his forehead to his knee. "It was all too much. I couldn't handle it. I wanted to—I nearly..."

Silence invaded the room, the only thing Tim could hear was the pounding of his heart and his own labored breathing. He kept his eyes shut tightly, not wanting to face any of them. This had been a mistake. He'd ruined everything with them forever.

Suddenly someone wrapped their arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Tears landed on the top of his head.

"I'm so sorry Tim," Cassie said, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

There was a faint crackle of electricity in the air and suddenly Bart was hugging him from the other side. Tears landed on Tim's arm and Tim knew he was crying as well. After a moment Kon shifted so he was behind them, wrapping has arms around all three of them and resting his head against Cassie's, cheek pressed into Tim's hair.

"It's okay," Tim whispered. "I'm okay."

"It's not okay," Cassie said. "I should have realized something was wrong, I should have been there for you."

Tim felt his eyes sting again, already raw from crying earlier. He took a shaky breath, surrounded by his closest friends. They held onto him tightly, like they were trying to hold him together and protect him from the world at the same time. They were all crying over him, for him, and Tim felt horribly guilty but also strangely relieved. They cared about him, they were sad on his behalf, they would have missed him if he'd gone through with it. In a twisted way, it made Tim feel better.

The sound of shattering glass made Tim jolt. Immediately they all swiveled their heads towards the sound. Dick stood in the doorway, a mug or coffee laying shattered at his feet. He was staring at Tim with horror in his eyes, gaze fixed on Tim's exposed calf, on the scars that were undeniably self inflicted.

_ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops.
> 
> The Core 4's sexualities are all my headcanons for everyone. Some people have had Bart be pan, and I think that's fine, but I kind of like the idea of him just being 'eh, is what it is' about his sexuality. He's maybe ace but also possibly pan or bi, he enjoys dating and thinks people are attractive, kissing and sex is fun but he could live without it if he had to. He's all over the place. There probably is a label out there that would fit him, but honestly he's probably fine without it. He's Bart, and I love him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Tim chapter, but I think if I didn't continue with the cliffhanger you guys would find me and steal my ears. I had a lot of fun with this one, though honestly I have a lot of fun with a lot of chapters. Writing is just so much fun. Except when it's not fun and I hate it.
> 
> Trigger warning for discussions of a suicide attempt and self harm.

For a few minutes, there was shocked silence, Tim too startled to move, Kon, Cassie and Bart too unsure of what to do, and Dick too shocked. After a five second eternity, Tim scrambled to push his pant leg down and hide his calf.

The movement snapped Dick out of his trance. "Tim, what the  _ hell  _ is that?"

"It's nothing," Tim said quickly.

"That is  _ not  _ nothing," Dick said, crossing into the room. "Tim, what did you do?"

"It's none of your business," Tim snapped, turning away from Dick.

"The hell it's none of my business!" Dick shouted. "What the hell  _ happened  _ Tim?"

"Hey c'mon Nightwing," Kon said, starting to stand up. "Lay off."

"Stay out of this," Dick snapped at Kon.

Tim could feel Bart and Cassie bristle next to him, starting to get defensive on his behalf. A part of Tim was tempted to let them do it. Each of them would absolutely fight Nightwing on his behalf if he told them to.

Dick took no notice of the three metas readying themselves to square up. "Tim, tell me what's going on," he demanded.

"I  _ said  _ it was none of your business," Tim huffed.

"I am your older brother Tim, this  _ is  _ my business," Dick said. "Tim, why are you hurting yourself?" he asked, voice starting to go desperate. He reached out and grabbed Tim's shoulder. "Please, answer me!"

In an instant, Dick's hand was removed from Tim, wrist gripped in the iron shackle that was Cassie's hand. Cassie gently but firmly pushed Dick back. "I think you need to back off," she said.

Dick's face twisted in anger and he started to push back, but Cassie squeezed his wrist and didn't budge an inch. Dick had more experience than her, and was well respected within the community as a great leader, but there was no way he was going to beat Cassie in a fight, especially when she had Bart and Kon as backup. Tim could see the gears turning in Dick's head as he tried to come up with something.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?"

They all turned to see Alfred in the doorway, hands on his hips and brows furrowed in annoyance. Not a moment later Bruce appeared next to him, confusion and the beginnings of anger etching into his face.

Cassie let go of Dick's wrist. Though she was prepared to punch Nightwing in the face if she needed to,  _ Batman  _ was a whole other story. Trying to fight Alfred was just unthinkable.

Bruce stepped into the room. "What is going on?" he demanded sternly.

Tim felt his heart start to pound. This wasn't how he'd wanted to tell his family. He was still adjusting to Bruce knowing he was gay. He hadn't even patched things up with Dick, and now he was freaking out over his scars.

"Tim's leg," Dick said, rubbing his wrist. "He's got scars."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "He was shot."

"He's got scars from cutting," Duck said.

"It's  _ none  _ of your business Dick!" Tim snapped.  _ Don't tell him, don't tell him! _

"Those are self-harm scars Tim! Do I look fucking  _ stupid  _ to you?" Dick snapped back, voice pitchy with panic.

" _ Enough _ , both of you," Bruce said sternly. He glanced at Cassie, Bart, and Kon. "Maybe you three should go home."

It wasn't a suggestion or a request, but Cassie stubbornly crossed her arms. "We stay with Tim," she said.

Tim bit his lip. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate it, but there was no way this was going to go well if they stayed. Tensions were high enough already. "It's okay Cassie," Tim said. "You guys should go."

"You sure Tim?" Bart asked. He'd stayed next to Tim, one hand resting against his back, but his whole body crackled with electricity, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

"Yes, it's fine," Tim said. "I... need to talk to them alone."

Kon and Bart exchanged a glance, but Cassie kept her eyes on Dick, staring him down. Eventually Bart gathered up his video games and started walking out, using his super speed to get everything together, but walking passed Dick and Bruce at normal speed.

Kon leaned down and whispered into Tim's ear. "Yell if you need me. I'll be listening."

Tim nodded and Kon straightened up to leave. Once he was gone, Cassie finally followed, keeping her eyes on Dick until the last possible moment. Dick glared right back at her, but there weren't many people who could hold their own against Nightwing when he was pissed off. If Tim wasn't in the middle of what was probably going to be one of the worst nights of his life, he'd be impressed.

When they were finally alone, Bruce and Dick turned their attention back to Tim. Bruce took a deep breath and walked around to stand in front of the couch. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"No," Tim grumbled. This wasn't how he wanted to tell  _ anyone _ , let alone his family.

Dick started to pace around the room. "Tim, you  _ need  _ to tell us what's going on with you."

"I don't  _ need  _ to do shit," Tim hissed.

"Tim, we're your  _ family _ !" Dick cried, "We should have known about this!"

"That's  _ enough  _ Dick," Bruce barked. "Take a walk."

Dick flushed red in anger. "But—"

"Take. A.  _ Walk _ ," Bruce growled, the implication that he would throw Dick out if he needed to evident in his tone.

For a moment it seemed like Dick was going to keep arguing. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but before the room could erupt in a physical fight, Dick turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. Tim breathed out a long sigh of relief.

Bruce waited a few minutes to be sure that Dick had truly left. When he was sure that they were alone, Bruce sat down next to Tim on the couch and said nothing. Tim hunched in on himself and waited, wishing he could have just left with Kon and the others.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk," Bruce said eventually, "but I would like to know what's going on."

Tim took a deep breath. Bruce wouldn't push him, but Tim could imagine Dick stomping through the manor, ready to corner him when he found him again. There was no way he was going to get out of this.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," Bruce said. "Can you show me?"

Tim closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. Slowly, he pulled up his pant leg to show Bruce the scars on his calf. They were unmistakably self-harm scars, and Bruce would be able to tell how old they were, and possibly even when they started. Bruce took a deep breath when he saw them and Tim quickly pushed the hem back down.

"This is why you didn't want us in the room with you at Leslie's," Bruce observed.

"I didn't want you to find out like this," Tim said, voice barely more than a whisper. He couldn't even look at Bruce.

"I can imagine," Brice said. "Were you going to tell me?"

Tim shrugged. "Maybe, I'm not sure. I've been better recently."

"I believe you," Bruce said, keeping his voice calm, even though he was probably freaking out internally. "Does this have anything to do with you coming out?"

Tim swallowed and hunched in on himself. "It... I had trouble... accepting it."

Bruce hummed. "I see," he said. "Is there anything else?"

Tim let out a pitchy, hysterical giggle. "Fuck, what  _ isn't  _ there?" he said. "You were  _ gone  _ Bruce, and no one believed me when I said you were out there. Dick chose Damian over me, he practically  _ forced  _ me out of Robin. My friends were dead, my girlfriend had lied to me about being dead, my dad was dead. God, what  _ wasn't  _ fucked up for me?"

"Tim," Bruce said softly.

"And then fucking  _ Paris  _ happened and I couldn't handle it," Tim said, reaching up to clutch his head. "I couldn't handle being a fucking  _ fag _ on top of everything else and I just needed some way to control it. I needed some way to externalize how fucked up my head was without actually dealing with what was inside my head. I  _ hated  _ myself, I wanted to  _ punish  _ myself. I wanted to  _ die _ ."

"Tim," Bruce said, firmer this time. He laid a hand on Tim's back. "I'm sorry."

Tim's breath hitched, but he was too cried out at this point. He sat on the couch, gripping his hair in his clenched fists as he tried to control his breathing. Bruce stayed quiet next to him, hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. Eventually Tim was just too exhausted and slumped over on the arm of the couch, not having the energy to move.

Bruce stayed where he was, continuing to rub Tim's back for a while. It was actually quite soothing, and Tim was starting to drift off.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Bruce asked softly. When Tim gave him a nod, Bruce gently scooped Tim up into his arms and started to walk him down the hall to his bedroom. Luckily Dick had moved away to a different part of the manor and they didn't see him.

Bruce carefully laid Tim onto his bed, helping tuck him in when Tim just flopped limply into his sheets, too exhausted by everything that had happened that day. "Sorry," Tim mumbled, pressing his face into his pillow.

"It's not your fault Tim," Bruce said. "I'm the one that—I should have—" he made an annoyed noise in his chest, then sighed and sat down on the bed. "Just get some sleep Tim. We can talk more in the morning."

Talking more about it was the last thing that Tim wanted to do. He could just imagine how it would go; the interrogation (when did this start? why did you do this?), the well meaning but out of place hypotheticals (you should have told us, you know you can talk to us), the circles of guilt and blame (I should have noticed, I should have done something), and finally the 'suggestions' (maybe you should take a break from Red Robin). It all sounded like something Tim would rather avoid like the plague. He was doing better now, there was no need to drag it all to the surface to examine everything under a microscope.

Bruce stayed for a while, glaring at the wall while he rubbed Tim's back. Tim slowly drifted off to sleep, too tired to force himself to stay awake. As he drifted off he found himself hoping that something would happen in the night, something that would take everyone's attention off of him and he could quietly be forgotten, just like always.

* * *

When Tim woke up, he was still not alone. Bruce was gone, but there was a hunched shape curled up in Tim's reading chair. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Tim saw that it was Dick, eyes closed and breathing steady, though his brow was furrowed like he was worried even in sleep. Tim would bet money that he wasn't fully asleep at all, but in a deep meditative state, ready to spring into action the moment Tim showed any indication of being awake.

Tim kept his breathing slow and watched Dick for a while, wondering what he should do. Most of him wanted to find a way to slip out of the room without Dick noticing, avoid talking to him like he'd been doing for weeks now. It wouldn't work, Dick was too well trained for Tim to make a move and not notice it, not to mention Dick could be tenacious when he really wanted to talk to someone. There was also the smaller part of Tim that was just tired of avoiding Dick, that wanted to just let this petty feud go and get his brother back. Hadn't it always been Dick that he could talk to when he felt down? Hadn't Dick always been the one there for him when things just got to be too much? Tim missed his brother, he didn't want to keep fighting.

With a deep sigh, Tim reached out to his nightstand for his stress ball and lobbed it at Dick. It bounced off of his head and Dick jolted out of the chair, sending himself sprawling across the floor with a yelp. He sprang up, body tense for a fight, and Tim just watched him flail for a moment. Dick noticed Tim staring at him from the bed and the stress ball on the floor, putting together the pieces in his head. He dropped his fighting stance and stood there awkwardly.

"Uh... morning?" Dick said, seemingly at a loss for what to say.

"Most people would be creeped out if they woke up and someone was watching them sleep," Tim said. "Luckily I'm used to everyone in this house having a weird sense of boundaries."

Dick jolted out of his stupor. "Tim," he said, taking a step towards the bed, then stopping. "I... I'm so  _ sorry _ ."

"For screaming at me and demanding I tell you personal information despite the fact that I was clearly uncomfortable?" Tim asked, feeling a small amount of vicious pleasure when Dick winced. "Or all the  _ other  _ crappy things you still haven't apologized for?"

Dick swallowed and had the decency to look ashamed of himself. "Both, all of it, shit I don't even know anymore," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I just—we need to  _ talk  _ Tim, this has gone on for way too long."

"You're right," Tim said, sitting up in bed. He looked up at Dick expectantly and waited.

Dick started to pace around, ever the ball of nervous energy. "I freaked out yesterday, and I shouldn't have, but I was just so... it  _ scared  _ me Tim, the idea that you would do that to yourself."

Tim sighed. "Right, because you being  _ freaked out  _ totally negates whatever sort of damage you might have done screaming at me and getting in my friends' faces," he said.

Dick flinched. "Tim—"

"I  _ told  _ you I didn't want to talk Dick," Tim cut him off, throwing off his blankets and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I wasn't ready to talk about it, but you  _ demanded  _ that I tell you. You told off my friends even though you had  _ no  _ right to do that. Do you really think  _ that's  _ how I wanted to tell you, to tell Bruce? I'm just  _ barely  _ coming to terms with it myself!"

"Well what was I supposed to do?" Dick asked. "I see my little brother with his legs all cut up, I'm just supposed to  _ not  _ lose my mind?"

"Yes!" Tim said, throwing up his hands. "Do you really think  _ this _ —" he gestured between them, "is  _ healthy  _ for me right now? Do you think shouting and screaming accusations is better for me than maybe a little bit of understanding and sympathy?"

Dick startled, teeth clicking together so fast Tim worried he might have bitten his cheek. "Tim, I..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Tim groaned and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I don't  _ want  _ to keep fighting with you Dick," he said. "I'm so sick of being mad at you, but you aren't helping. You keep coming up with excuses, I'm so  _ sick  _ of hearing it. I don't  _ care  _ about your excuses, I just want to know that you're  _ sorry _ ." Tim's eyes stung. "I just want my big brother back."

For a while, the room was silent. Tim could feel the wetness seep out of his eyes and took steadying breaths. After a moment, there was a dip in the bed as Dick sat down next to him. They sat next to each other for several moments before a warm hand landed on Tim's shoulder. He immediately leaned into Dick, letting his older brother pull him into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, Tim," Dick whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Tim used to be able to cry on Dick's shoulder when he was upset. Maybe all of this was because he'd stopped being able to do that. It had all gotten bottled up and Tim had spiraled out of control. If Dick hadn't practically kicked him out of Gotham, if he had given him some support, would it have gotten this bad?

Dick held Tim for what felt like hours, eventually the two of them ending up snuggled up on the bed. They didn't say anything, just curled up in one another's arms in silence. Tim tucked himself under Dick's chin, soaking in his warmth, allowing himself to just enjoy being a little brother again.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you and your friends Tim," Dick said eventually, softly enough not to break the silence. "I was just so  _ scared _ ."

"I know," Tim said. "I'm scared too."

Dick blew out a long breath. "And I'm sorry for what happened with Damian. I was trying to do what I thought was best for him, what Bruce would want me to do, and I just... I made a mistake."

Tim closed his eyes and hugged Dick tighter, breathing in the smell of his fancy shampoo and mild cologne. "I know Damian needed it," he said. It was true, he'd come to accept that Robin was the best way that Damian could have started transitioning into life with them from life with the League. He didn't exactly like it, but he accepted it.

"But I handled it badly," Dick said. "I should have talked to you first before I ever even  _ made  _ the decision. I didn't give you a choice, I didn't try to explain, I just... expected you to see it from my perspective, without even considering how it might affect you."

Tim let out a long sigh. "That  _ was  _ a really shitty thing," he said. "Robin... was the last stable thing in my life at the time. Bruce, my friends, my dad... Robin was the last thing that made sense. And you just... took it away from me. You didn't even  _ ask _ ."

"I know, I'm sorry," Dick said solemnly. "I should have asked. And—" he squeezed Tim tighter, "I should have believed you about Bruce."

Tim hadn't even thought about that. "It  _ was  _ pretty far fetched," he admitted.

"But you were still  _ right _ ," Dick pointed out. "We've all been saying for  _ years  _ that you're the best detective in the family. I should have given it more thought, I shouldn't have just dismissed you the way I did. You're the best for a  _ reason _ . At the very least I should have supported you more, even if I didn't think you were right."

Tim didn't answer for a while, letting Dick's words soak in. He'd been so angry for so long, having this now felt like a balm. Maybe it didn't make up for everything completely, maybe it would never be the same as it used to be, but Tim had missed Dick too much to be concerned about that right at the moment.

"I forgive you Dick," Tim said eventually. "Don't do it again."

"I promise I won't," Dick said. "Thank you."

They laid there for a while longer, happy to just be together again for a while. Tim had missed Dick, missed him so much it was like a physical ache. They'd been brothers since the beginning, long before Bruce had officially adopted Tim as his son. Dick was Tim's rock, the person he'd trusted the most to be there for him when he needed someone. For the moment, Tim was glad to be close to him again.

"Hey Dick?" Tim said.

"Yes Tim? What is it?" Dick asked.

Tim took a deep breath and held it for a moment. "I'm gay," he said, exhaling.

"Oh," Dick said, obviously having not expected that. "Alright, that's great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," Tim said.

There was a pause as Dick seemed to search for something else to say. "I'm proud of you Tim, it's really brave of you."

"I  _ feel  _ brave, considering," Tim said.

"Considering?" Dick asked.

Tim fisted his hands in Dick's sweatshirt. "Why do think I started cutting?"

Dick's whole body went tense. "Oh Timmy," he said, tangling one hand in his hair and kissing his forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Tim sighed and closed his eyes. "You remember when I was sick for three days and didn't talk to anyone?"

"Yeah," Dick said. "Why?"

"I wasn't actually sick," Tim said. "I... what happened was that I..."

"Tim?" Dick asked softly. "What happened?"

_ At the top of a particularly high swing, Tim took a deep breath and let himself fall through the air. The street rushed up, the lights around him blurring as gravity pulled him faster and faster. Tim took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _

Tim closed his eyes and tried to block out the memory. "I nearly died," he said. "I was swinging through the city, just like always, and I kept pushing myself to go longer and longer between firing the grapple. And then I just... didn't fire it."

"Tim," Dick breathed, shaking against him.

"I realized what I was doing and fired at the last second. I dislocated my shoulder from the force. I broke a window and crawled into the building, I couldn't believe what I'd almost done. I went home and I slept for three days. I couldn't face what had happened, I couldn't face anyone."

Dick's grip on him became vice-like as his chest hitched with sobs. He buried his face into Tim's hair, wetting it with tears. Tim clung to Dick, though he wasn't crying this time. He felt like he was all cried out, and now it was his turn to comfort someone else.

Dick composed himself quickly, taking a couple of deep, steadying breaths. He pressed a kiss to Tim's forehead. "I'm sorry Tim," he whispered. "I didn't realize—I should have  _ realized _ ."

"I didn't tell you," Tim said. "I didn't tell anyone, even Kate. The only other person who knows about it is—" Tim cut himself off before he could say Jason's name. "There's only one person who knows, and only by accident. I didn't even tell Kate, and Kon only knows that it got bad."

"Kon," Dick said. "He just came out as bi recently. Are you two...?"

_ Kon kissing him fiercely as he thrust into Tim. _ "No, we're not together," Tim said. "It... wouldn't be healthy."

Dick hummed. "And you talked to Kate?"

Tim nodded. "She's a lesbian. It felt... she knew what it was like."

"Right," Dick said. He blew out a long sigh. "That's good, I'm glad you had someone to talk to about it."

"She helped me accept it," Tim said. "I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't been there to help me."

Dick shivered slightly. "I'll be sure to thank her," he said. "She's probably down at breakfast right now actually."

"She broke in again?" Tim asked.

"She came in last night with Bruce," Dick said. "She practically dragged him back."

"Did he get hurt?" Tim asked, anxiety spiking.

"He went a little too hard last night is all," Dick explained. "Overexerted himself a bit."

Tim pressed his lips together, knowing the reason Bruce had gone too hard was probably because of him. Bruce was not a man with many emotional outlets, and it wasn't hard to imagine that last night was at least a little upsetting. Tim tried not to feel guilty that he might have indirectly caused Batman to hurt himself.

Dick gave Tim one last tight squeeze and then sat up. "Come on, we should probably go down for breakfast."

Tim sighed. "Yeah," he said. He wasn't really looking forward to facing everyone after what happened last night.

"Do you want me to carry you?" Dick offered.

"I can make it on my crutches," Tim said.

Dick waited patiently while Tim got dressed in the bathroom. Tim took a moment to examine his calves, tracing the scars. Some were months old, faded into slightly raised white lines, while others were fresher, pink and bumpy, like little ladder rungs crawling up his legs towards his knees. He'd picked his calves because it was so easy to hide the cuts, all he had to do was wear long pants, something no one thought twice about. If he had cut his wrists, the more usual spot for self harm, someone would have noticed far quicker.

Tim ran his hand along the largest scar, one of the ones from the night Kon had come out. He'd had to stitch it closed, and it had taken ages to heal properly. Even now the skin was sensitive and a bit raw. Tim wondered how long it would take to heal completely.

There was a knock on the door. "Tim?" Dick called. "You okay?"

Tim traced the scar one last time before finishing getting dressed. "I'm fine," he called back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have ended it in another spot, but I think I like where I stopped it here. A lot of stuff was revealed and everyone is sad 😊
> 
> A couple things: Tim kind of just blurts out a bunch of things to Dick once they made up, after he'd been keeping so much of it bottled up from others. Dick has always been the person that Tim could go to when he needed someone to talk to. Bruce tries to be a good dad, but he's not so great when it comes to emotions. Now that Tim had his big brother back, all the stuff he'd been keeping to himself just word-vomits itself up.
> 
> Also, excuses vs explanations. Having an explanation for your actions isn't quite the same as having an excuse. An explanation is kind of 'this is why I did the thing', where an excuse is 'this justifies why I did the thing'. Dick has kind of been a dick about having excuses over explanations in this fic.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really getting these chapters done quickly for how little planning I had way at the start of this fic. I'm going to try and progress things a bit faster in the coming chapters, though that might be a lie so who knows.
> 
> Triggers for discussions of attempted suicide, self destructive behaviour, and suicide ideation.

Breakfast was awkward, to say the least. Tim was happy that he and Dick had made up, but Dick—in true Dick fashion—was trying to overcompensate for the last few months of them not talking, and was chattering away. Bruce sat at the head of the table, one black eye and wrist bandaged tightly, stonily silent and glaring a hole in his paper. Kate sat on the other side of the table, falling asleep into her oatmeal.

Surprisingly, Damian sat directly across from Tim and stared at him intently for the duration of the meal, but only when Tim wasn't looking. Damian had been avoiding Tim as much as possible since their encounter in the kitchen. The only time he acknowledged Tim's existence was as Red Robin, and even that had been strange lately. Instead of fighting against every order or suggestion Red Robin made, Robin had actually been fairly decent about listening to him. He was still a snarky, bratty little shit with a pissy attitude, but at the very least he no longer made insults about Red Robin's competence or his place in the family. It was almost pleasant. Outside of patrol, Damian ignored Tim entirely, hardly even looking up when he entered a room. Tim hadn't expected them to become friends after the kitchen incident (or ever), but he hadn't really expected to be treated like a ghost.

Tim wasn't sure if the constant, obvious staring was an improvement or not.

Tim managed to survive breakfast unscathed and escaped back to the media room he'd claimed. It had been cleaned up since last night, and his phone and laptop were plugged in to charge in the corner. Tim grabbed his phone and immediately noted the missed texts from Kon, Cassie, and Bart.

_ Dude, if u don't answer us, we're going to storm Gotham and rescue u _ , read Cassie's last text in the group chat. Tim smiled and replied.

_ Worked it all out, no need to stage an epic rescue _ , he texted back, then set his phone down.

The reply came in a moment later.  _ Boo, epic rescues r fun _ , Bart wrote, along with a string of emojis conveying how disappointed he was.

Tim snorted.  _ u guys realize you'd have to fight Nightwing AND Batman to get to me, right? _ he texted back.

_ we could take them _ , Kon wrote.  _ we could hide u at the tower, or the farm _

_ u'd get ur butts kicked _ , Tim wrote.

_ We're 3 metas against 2 regular guys, we'd whoop ass _ , Cassie chimed in.  _ Whatr they gonna do? throw a batarang? weak sauce _

_ yea sure, until u consider Bruce is a paranoid mf that has contingencies for his contingencies _ , Tim pointed out.  _ u guys might be able to get thru the first couple layers of defenses, but could you keep up the momentum? I have Doubts™ _

_ wed do it 4 u, _ Bart said.  _ wed fight the whole JL if we had 2  _ 😤 💪💥

Tim smiled, feeling his chest warm.  _ thank u _ , he typed. Something occurred to him.  _ u'd fight Batman, but could you get past the last line of defence? _

_???? _ Kon wrote.

Tim grinned and typed,  _ Alfred _

_ oof  _ 😬, Cassie wrote.  _ that's tough, we might not make it _

_ def would have a hard time _ , Kon admitted.

_ one of us would have to sacrifice themselves for the gr8er good _ , Bart wrote.  _ I vote Kon _

_ rude  _ 😠, Kon replied.

_ u'd probably live _ , Bart wrote.

_ usually when u suggest a heroic sacrifice, its common courtesy to sacrifice urself _ , Kon pointed out.  _ thats why its called SELF-sacrifice, dipshit _

_ so u wouldn't sacrifice urself for tim? _ Cassie asked.  _ that's cold bro _

_ I mean I WOULD, in a heartbeat _ , Kon wrote,  _ but its the principle _

The conversation dissolved into a petty argument from there, Tim jumping in here and there to put gasoline on the fire. He was chuckling over a particularly silly string of emojis when Tim felt someone watching him. He looked up and scanned around, just catching movement around the corner of the door. Tim narrowed his eyes and grabbed his crutches, hobbling to the door to scan the hall. The hallway was completely deserted, and there was no way Tim was going to catch up to whoever was spying on him on his crutches, so Tim went back to the couch to relax.

Tim spent most of the morning alternating between napping and entertaining himself with either TV, movies, or video games. Bruce had taken away his casework and his work for WE, so there was nothing he could really do aside from sending a few emails to his staff at WE. He'd tried to hack into the Cave to work on some cases remotely, but Bruce had Oracle lock him out, and it would take a lot more effort to bypass her than seemed worth it. Every so often, Tim would get that feeling that he was being watched again, but when he looked to the door, there was nothing. Whoever was spying on him wasn't doing anything else, and Tim wasn't doing anything of interest either, so he wasn't too worried about it.

By the time lunch rolled around, Tim was pretty bored. There wasn't much on TV and there were far too many movies to choose from, leaving Tim with little to do. Luckily, Tim was saved from actually having to make a decision about what movie to watch when Kate walked into the room.

"Hey kid," she said, swinging herself over the back of the couch to sit next to him.

"Hey Kate," Tim said smiling at her. She seemed much more awake since breakfast.

"Heard about what happened yesterday," she said. "You okay?"

Tim let out a long sigh. "I'll be okay," he said. "Dick... he can be an asshole, but at least this time he apologized for it."

Kate hummed. "Well, if you need me to kick his ass, let me know," she said. "But you came out to Bruce. That's really great kid, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks Kate," Tim said, smiling at her. He remembered what Dick had told him and the state Bruce had been in at breakfast. "What happened to Bruce last night?"

Kate groaned. "He was being a repressed jackass, as per usual," she explained. "He was pretty angry about yesterday, and he decided to take it out on a bunch of people's faces. Rushed into a few things that he probably should have thought about a little longer. He'll be fine."

"Right," Tim said, worrying his lip. Bruce had been angry enough about what happened to put himself in a potentially lethal situation. Tim felt his stomach twist with guilt.

"Hey," Kate said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you're thinking, knock it off. You're not responsible for what Bruce does."

"I mean, if I had done a better job of hiding it..." Tim said.

"Then he still would have found out about it eventually and he'd still be pissed off and taking it out on criminals like the big stupid asshole that he is," Kate said. She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "He's mad at himself kiddo, not you, okay?"

"Okay," Tim said, though he still felt the guilt chewing at his insides. "I just... wish it hadn't happened like that."

"Yeah I get that," Kate said, going quiet for a moment. "My dad still doesn't know how bad I got."

Tim looked over at her. She gave him a wan smile. "I didn't self harm, not in the same way, but I got pretty self-destructive for a while. Drugs, drinking, partying, going home with people you wouldn't even want to share a bus seat with, it got pretty bad."

"Did you ever—" the words jumped out before he could stop them, but Tim cut himself off before he could get the rest of the question out.

"Try to kill myself?" Kate finished for him. "No, I never tried, but it was a bit different for me," she explained. "I didn't really want to  _ die  _ so much as I just wanted to stop existing. I'd be fine if like, a bus hit me or I just fell asleep and didn't wake up, but I wasn't actively looking for ways to die."

Tim nodded, mulling it over for a while. "I still think about it sometimes," he said. "Just... forgetting to pack enough gear, or not doing proper maintenance, little stuff like that could be written off as an oversight."

"You'd want it to seem like and accident," Kate said.

"I... wouldn't want anyone to worry, y'know?" Tim said. "That they could have done something. Just a freak accident."

Kate hummed. "I understand," she said. "Do you think about this often?"

Tim shrugged. "No, not really. I mean, maybe once a week? It used to be much worse."

"Of course, you're doing much better," Kate said, giving him a smile. "I can see you're doing a lot better."

Tim returned the smile. "I feel a lot better," he said. "I haven't even thought about cutting in weeks."

"That's great kid," Kate said, giving his shoulder a bump. She glanced at her watch. "I was actually supposed to fetch you for lunch, if you're hungry."

"Not really," Tim said. "But I should probably eat something or Alfred will worry."

"He's good at that," Kate said, helping Tim off of the couch. She walked and chatted with him all the way to the kitchen where Alfred was waiting to ambush them with chicken salad sandwiches. Kate ate hers quickly and excused herself, citing that she needed to borrow the Batcomputer for something, giving Tim's hair a ruffle on her way out.

Tim finished his lunch under Alfred's careful watch and contemplated just heading back to his room for a nap when Dick found him. "Hey Timmy, the boss wanted to see you downstairs. Something about the drug case," he said.

"I'll be right there," Tim said, hobbling on his crutches towards the elevator. They didn't use it often, mostly for when they were injured too badly to take the stairs (or when Barbara visited). He had to punch a special code for it to take him down to the Cave, as well as give a retinal scan for it to even consider moving. By the time Tim got down to the Cave, Dick had already beaten him there and was sparring with Kate on the matts one level down. Bruce was sitting at the computer waiting for him.

"What's up?" Tim asked. "Did we miss something from the case?"

"No, the case itself is wrapped up," Bruce said. "I wanted to talk about this."

Bruce held up a little evidence bag containing a single rubber bullet, the caliber suggesting a pistol. On the computer screen Tim could see a half a dozen stills from the cameras they'd set up at the Morrisey site, all of them of a bulky figure, some of them with the tell tale flash of a red helmet.

"Tim," Bruce asked slowly, "who was your contact for the information you got about the sites?"

Tim looked into Bruce's eyes. With Tim hunched over on his crutches and Bruce sitting up tall in the chair, they were about at eye level. "Red Hood," Tim answered, not breaking eye contact.

Bruce's eyebrow twitched slightly. "And you didn't think you should have mentioned that?"

Tim shrugged. "It wasn't relevant to the case," he said.

Bruce stood to his full height, towering over Tim. It might have been threatening if Tim had ever been scared that Bruce might strike him. "Tim, you should have told me about this. Red Hood is  _ dangerous _ ."

"I know that," Tim said, "but there's something else going on."

Bruce made a noise deep in his chest, but Tim continued before the lecture could start. "You've got all the evidence yourself," he said. "The rubber bullets, the fact that no one died that night, the way Jason helped me with my leg. He's different now."

"He tried to kill you," Bruce reiterated, though his eyes darted to the stills on the computer screen. The evidence bag crinkled slightly as he gripped it tighter.

"So did Damian, but we still let him in the house," Tim pointed out. "I really think Jason has changed. He's been back in the city for months now and there hasn't been a single death traced back to Red Hood. He's been taking out human traffickers and abusive pimps and drug peddlers, but no one has died. He's been  _ helping  _ people."

"He's not perfect," Tim said, remembering the man thrown through the window, "but I think he's trying," he said, recalling how Jason had taken care of the girls locked in that little room.

Tim could tell Bruce was conflicted. Red Hood had proven himself to be dangerous, something Tim was  _ achingly  _ aware of. When Tim had broken Jason out of prison, he'd thanked him by going on a killing spree. It was hard to trust that Jason was actually turning over a new leaf. On the other hand, Bruce probably  _ wanted  _ to believe that Jason had changed for the better. He probably wanted it so badly he could feel it in his bones, but he didn't want to give himself the hope in case it wasn't true.

Bruce turned to the computer and leaned against the dash, scanning each of the images. He wasn't stupid, he must have been following Red Hood as closely as possible. He'd  _ seen  _ how Red Hood had helped Tim when he'd been hit. Red Hood could have killed him if he wanted to, but he hadn't, Bruce had to know that.

"You believe he's really trying to do better?" Bruce asked, still glaring at the images on the screen like they might hold the answer.

"He saved my life," Tim said. "Even when there was no gain or loss to him. If he wanted me dead, he would have let me jump, but he didn't."

Bruce sucked in a breath and turned to Tim. "Jump?" he asked.

Tim clenched his hands around the handles of his crutches, gaze sliding away to a dark corner of the room. He closed his eyes and fought off the memory of the cold stone against his bare feet as he stepped up onto the railing, the wind yanking at his hair and clothing, his own brain trying to calculate the angle of the fall in order to kill him instantly. Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

A hand landed on Tim's shoulder, and shortly Tim was wrapped up in Bruce's arms and being pulled into a tight hug. Tim kept his eyes closed and buried his face into Bruce's sweater, inhaling the smell of the laundry detergent Alfred used. Bruce held onto him tightly, like he might disappear if he let go.

Eventually Bruce stepped back, though he kept a hand on Tim's shoulder. He took a long, deep breath. "I'm going to look into Red Hood, and I'd like your help with it," he said.

"Whatever I can provide," Tim promised, already making a mental note not to mention Jason's relationship with Kori and Roy or his sexuality.

Bruce squeezed his shoulder. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about Tim," he said, tone serious.

Tim tensed, knowing the words were coming long before the left Bruce's mouth. "I think you should take a break from active duty for a while," Bruce said slowly.

"I'm already taking a break," Tim said. "I've got another two weeks of healing before my leg is better."

"That's not what I'm talking about Tim," Bruce said. "I think you should take a break from patrolling until your feeling... more  _ stable _ ."

_ Less suicidal _ , Tim heard. "I'm fine now," he protested. "I'm doing a lot better. I haven't cut in weeks."

"And that's great Tim, I'm very happy to hear that," Bruce said. "But I don't want to risk putting you in a position where you might be... triggered."

Tim bristled. "There are a lot of ways to kill myself in this house, if I was really going to do it," he shot back viciously. It had the desired effect of making Bruce flinch.

"Regardless of that," Bruce said, soldiering on, "I think you could benefit from some time away from patrolling. You can still work on cases and at WE, but it might be better for your health if you took a break."

"My health is fine," Tim said. "It's fine enough. I don't think I deserve to be punished over this."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Tim, I'm not trying to  _ punish  _ you, I'm trying to look after you," he said. "I can't in good conscious send you out after you've just admitted to me that you've been  _ suicidal  _ recently."

"You don't  _ send  _ me anywhere. I'm not Robin anymore, I'm a free agent," Tim snapped. He shoved Bruce's hand off of his shoulder. "Or did that slip your mind?"

It was a sore spot between them, Tim's status as Red Robin. As much as it had been Dick to actually give Tim the boot, Bruce hadn't exactly done much to fix the situation either. When he'd finally returned, he'd kept Damian as his Robin, seemingly unquestioning as to why Tim was no longer Robin. Tim had accepted being Red Robin by that time, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt.

Tim could see Bruce's temper starting to flare. They were saved from starting a fight by Dick and Kate ascending the stairs. Tim had a moment of realization.

"You told him," he accused Kate. "You told him about what I said."

Kate raised a red eyebrow. "He asked me if I thought you might be a danger to yourself, yes or no," she said. "I just answered truthfully kiddo."

"I'm not a danger to myself," Tim said, but that felt like a lie even on his own tongue. "I don't  _ want  _ to give up Red Robin, you can't keep taking this from me."

"No one is asking you to give it up Tim," Bruce said, temper having settled with the reprieve. "I'm just asking you to take some time to recover. You mental health is important."

"Since when?" Tim snapped. "Since when has anyone in this family cared about mental health? We deal with our issues by dressing up in brightly coloured costumes and fight weird crime. When was the last time  _ anyone _ in this room took a break for mental health?"

"You're right," Dick piped up before anyone else could say something. "You're absolutely right Tim, we  _ haven't  _ been taking our mental health as seriously as we should." He walked towards Tim, posture open and non-threatening. "So how about this instead? We won't ask you to give up patrolling, but in exchange you start seeing a therapist, okay?"

Tim bristled. "So it's an ultimatum?"

"It's a  _ choice _ ," Dick said. "We can't force you to do anything you don't want to do. You're an emancipated adult, so in the end it's up to you. But, if you start going to therapy, we'll all go to therapy as well."

"We will?" Kate asked.

" _ Yes _ , we will," Dick answered her, though he was staring hard at Bruce, who looked like he'd just eaten a whole lemon, peel and all. "We'll all go to at least a couple sessions each. We're all going to start taking our mental health into account along with the rest of our health."

Tim stared up at Dick, somewhat divided. He knew if he said no, they would let it go for now, but they wouldn't stop in the long run. They'd try different tactics to try and get Tim to agree. He could keep fighting if he wanted, but considering the effort that would take, Tim was probably better off giving in.

"Alright," Tim agreed, starting to relax a bit. "I'll see a therapist."

The room seemed to take a collective sigh of relief. "Okay," Dick said, smiling tiredly at Tim. "There's still the therapist I told you about in Metropolis, if you want me to get in touch with them. Or you can find someone on your own if you want."

"No, the one in Metropolis is fine," Tim said, wanting to be done with the conversation. Quickly extracting himself from the others, he made his way back to the elevators as fast as his crutches would allow. Behind him he could hear Bruce and Dick start to argue.

Tim didn't go back to the media room, or his bedroom for a nap. Instead, he found his way to the highest balcony in the manor and sat for a while. He would have preferred to get onto the roof, but he wouldn't be able to make the climb with his leg.

It was really too cold to be sitting outside for an extended period, but Tim was still too mad to head inside. He could stand the cold for a few minutes at least, enough to cool his temper a little.

It wasn't exactly the  _ worst  _ idea in the world, Tim finally admitted. He'd improved a lot since he started talking to Kate, then Steph, then Kon, having a professional head doctor take a crack at things probably wouldn't hurt. Though he highly doubted anyone would be able to finagle  _ Bruce  _ into a therapist's office anytime this century.

Tim sighed and shivered, considering heading back inside when he noticed it. If he were anyone else, if he hadn't been as trained as well as he was, it would have slipped past him, but he was trained by the best and he did notice. He let out another sigh and turned to look up towards the roof.

"I know you're there Damian, stop spying on me," he called.

At first there was nothing, no movement at all to suggest that Damian realized he'd been had. Finally Damian leapt over the side of the roof and dropped to the railing, clearly intent on startling Tim if he couldn't sneak up on him. Tim raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Is there a reason you've been spying on me all day?" Tim asked. He wasn't really in the mood for whatever weirdness Damian had gotten into his head today.

Damian stared at Tim, green eyes watching him intensely, like he was trying to bore holes in Tim's head. Tim stared right back, unperturbed. Whatever Damian wanted, he could ask for it like a regular human.

After about a minute of staring, Damian got impatient and hopped down from the railing. He paced up and down the balcony for a while, eyes never leaving Tim. Tim barely refrained from sighing and rolling his eyes.

Just as Tim contemplated just leaving and going back inside, Damian finally gave a scoff and sat next to Tim on the other patio chair, still watching him intensely. He fidgeted his hands a little, seeming like he was on the verge of saying something, but remaining quiet.

"What?" Tim asked, finally having had enough.

Damian didn't answer for a moment, but eventually got the words out. "Grayson said you've been hurting yourself deliberately. Is that true?"

Tim gave in and sighed. He reached down and pulled up his pant leg to show Damian the scars. "Satisfied?" he asked.

Damian stared at the scars on Tim's leg for a while, brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out a difficult question. He looked back up at Tim's face with a deep frown. "Why?"

Tim blinked, startled by the question. Damian seemed... genuinely perplexed by the idea of Tim hurting himself. If Tim didn't know that the very idea was ludicrous, he might have said there was concern somewhere in Damian's green eyes.

Tim searched for an answer to Damian's question. "It made me feel better," he said with a shrug. The wind felt cold on his bare leg, but he didn't move to cover it.

Damian's frown deepened and he looked back down at the scars. Slowly, like he might get swatted for it, he reached out to touch the scars, feeling the raised bumps on Tim's skin. His hand was warm, almost hot in comparison to the cold around them.

"One time," Damian said, voice so soft it was nearly lost in the wind. "One time when I was six, I almost died. I fell in a well and nearly drowned."

Tim raised an eyebrow, surprised. He was not the person that Damian confided in, but he was curious as to where this was going.

"I lived,  _ obviously _ ," Damian said with a scoff, as though he was correcting Tim for assuming he'd actually drowned. "But... afterwards, Mother was... different with me."

"Different?" Tim asked curiously.

Damian nodded. "She was... kind, and even sweet sometimes. She stayed with me and paid attention to me all the time. She even held me in her arms sometimes," he said, the words starting to tumble together, like Damian was excited to tell him. He paused and slowed again. "It was really nice at first, I was glad for her change in demeanor. I had...  _ longed  _ for her affection for a significant number of years."

Tim swallowed, feeling his chest pinch with emotion. Damian, at age  _ six,  _ had wanted his to be close to his mother for years. For a moment, Tim was back in his old house, throwing a crying fit because he didn't  _ want  _ to play games with the nanny anymore, he wanted his parents to come back from their trip. He remembered once trying to crawl into his mother's lap, only to be reprimanded for wrinkling her skirt before some sort of event she was supposed to be at.

It was a lonely feeling, to be desperate for your own mother's attention.

"I wanted her to keep acting that way forever," Damian continued somewhat wistfully, "but the longer it continued, the more anxious I became for when it would end. For surely it would end and things would return to normal eventually." He frowned deeply. "But it didn't. For months she continued to be sweet with me, even when Grandfather chastised her for coddling me. I... I kept waiting for it to end and dreading that it would."

Damian took a deep breath, eyes far away, lost in the memory. "One day I broke a relic of my Grandfather's. It was a priceless artifact, owned by a Roman emperor or some such figure, I do not recall exactly. I knocked it over and shattered it into a thousand pieces."

Tim sucked in a breath, the pain sharp in his gut. Damian's face pinched. "Anyone else might have been executed for such an offense. I was flogged, severely, for my crime. Mother was very disappointed in me, and vowed that she would not let my training slide any longer. She distanced herself once more, and things resumed as normal." Damian took a long breath. "I missed her terribly."

The wind picked up around them, rushing through the mostly bare branches. Tim watched Damian for a while, not sure what he should say. He hadn't expected this, either Damian's story or to actually  _ empathize  _ with him, or, most surprising of all, for  _ Damian  _ to try and empathize with  _ him _ . Tim almost felt like pinching himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, or going downstairs to the Cave to run some tests to check if he'd fallen into a different dimension somehow.

Damian's hand remained on Tim's leg, palm like a brand of heat against Tim's skin. He was so much paler than Damian, Tim realized. Even after spending months and months in the perpetually sunless Gotham, he was much darker than anyone else in the house. Carefully, Tim laid his hand over Damian's, not trying to hold his hand or remove it, just laying his own overtop of it. Damian looked up at Tim, eyes questioning and uncertain.

Tim said nothing, but gave Damian a small nod, hoping it was enough. Damian sucked in a breath and returned it, an understanding passing between them. Tim turned to look out over the grounds, imagining a tiny, helpless Damian falling into a well, only saving himself by swimming deeper.

Around them it began to snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired tonight. I haven't been sleeping that well so my brain is pretty mushy and I don't have much to say. Though there is the thing with Kate I guess. She didn't actually disclose anything Tim told her, but she did let Bruce know she thought he might be a danger to himself, which is what a Good Adult does when a kid says something like that.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of odd in that I started writing it as more of a way to skip ahead a few weeks timeline wise and also dump a bunch of exposition semi-naturally into the story. I think I did okay and I managed to actually put some good moments into it.
> 
> Trigger warnings for discussions of medications, mentions of pedophilia, and I think it's felony murder?? I'm not sure on the technicalities of it.

Tim got lost twice making his way to Jason's safe house. To his credit, he'd only ever been there once and he hadn't travelled by car, so he was giving himself that excuse. It was also snowing, so Tim had to squint to see the road signs.

It had been a few weeks since Dick had seen his scars and freaked out, and Tim had finally healed enough to return to his duties as Red Robin. He'd planned to find Red Hood as soon as possible, but Batman had employed a strict 'buddy system' to patrols, and now no one patrolled alone, or if they were alone, they checked in at regular intervals. It was both sweet to know that Bruce was so worried and frustratingly annoying as he was unable to slip away.

So now Tim was visiting Jason in the daytime, when no one would expect him to go looking for the Red Hood. As far as anyone knew, he was out getting lunch and running errands. He was most certainly  _ not  _ in one of the shadier parts of the Narrows, looking for trouble.

True to his word, Tim had been helping Bruce compile evidence on the Red Hood, directing him towards his work in Gotham and telling him about what he knew of Jason's mental state. So far he'd managed to avoid telling Bruce where he was living—or who he was dating—but he could only withhold so much before Bruce started getting suspicious, or just figured it out for himself. Bruce probably already suspected there were things Tim wasn't telling him, but he hadn't pushed too hard for the information, probably on account of Tim's 'condition'.

It couldn't last forever though, and Tim figured Jason had earned a bit of forewarning.

Tim looked up at the slightly decrepit building he'd nearly been thrown out of the last time he'd been there. The whole structure was probably older than Tim himself, and most of it was boarded up and no clear entrance. The only way 'inside' of the building looked to be the fire escape, which was permanently pulled down. Tim started to scale the building, winding his way up until he hit a balcony with an open window. He slipped inside and quickly found the stairs, spiralling upwards. Tim put his foot on the first step and winced when it creaked loudly.

"So much for stealth," he grumbled to himself. Each step on the old wooden stairs nearly shrieked with age, announcing each footstep. If anyone was in the building, they most certainly knew Tim was there, which was probably the point, if Tim thought about it.

Tim finally reached Jason's door, the only door on the top floor that sat straight on its hinges and looked fairly new. There was a distant hum of a generator somewhere in the building. Tim paused in front of it, listening hard. If Jason was home, there was every possibility he was waiting on the other side, gun in hand, ready to shoot whatever intruder was nearly upon him.

Tim knocked on the door firmly, fist banging loudly against the metal. "Jason! Open up, it's me!"

For a moment there was complete silence as Tim waited for a response. Just as Tim was contemplating getting his lock picks out, there was the scrape of a deadbolt and a few clicks, then the door swung open to reveal Jason, wearing nothing but a pair of pyjama pants and holding a gun at his side.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason snapped, eyes flicking up and down the hall like he was expecting Batman to jump out at him from a shadow.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about," Tim said. "I'm alone."

Jason glared down at him and opened his mouth, probably to tell him to fuck off, when a plume of red hair appeared over his shoulder. "Timothy," Kori said, smiling brightly, "it's so nice to see you again."

"Hi Koriand'r," Tim said, smiling back at her.

Kori reached over Jason and pushed the door open. "We were just about to have some breakfast, if you would like some," she offered.

"I'd love some," Tim said, stepping inside and passing Jason. Jason looked like he'd love nothing more than to throw Tim out a window.

Kori smiled and floated off to the little kitchen section of the loft. "You are in for a treat. Jason made strawberry pancakes," she said, getting out a third plate and set of utensils. "Jason is a wonderful cook."

"Is that right?" Tim asked, grinning at Jason. There was the barest hint of a flush across Jason's cheekbones.

"You came here to talk about something?" Jason asked, crossing his arms over his scarred chest. "Spit it out so I can get to the part where I toss you out of my house."

"We'll get to that in a second," Tim said, accepting a plate from Kori. "I've been invited to dine with a princess. It would be rude not to accept."

Jason growled, but Kori bounded over to him. "He is not interrupting date night this time, it would be rude to throw him out after he came to see you," she said. "You said you liked him."

Few people could resist the force of nature that was Princess Koriand'r, but Jason held out for nearly thirty seconds before throwing up his hands. "Fine! The little shit can stay for breakfast, but then I get to chuck him out the window for overstaying his welcome."

"I won't be too long," Tim said, setting his plate down on the table and sitting down. "I just wanted to let you know that Bruce is investigating you."

Jason bristled. "What have you told him?" he asked, voice low and controlled.

"A few things," Tim said, pouring blueberry syrup over his pancakes. He passed the bottle to Kori and smiled when she put a few dollops on top of her already chocolate sauce and maple syrup drenched pancakes. "I haven't told him your location, he doesn't even know I'm here."

"Are you sure about that?" Jason asked, finally sitting down at the table. He was still tense, but he was listening.

Tim nodded. "I made sure. He thinks I'm out running errands, which is technically not a lie," he said. "I've mostly stuck to the work you've been doing as Red Hood. Saving people, looking out for victims, not killing anyone, even if they probably deserve it."

Jason snorted. "That's not because of  _ him _ , by the way," he said. "It's not because of his crusade that I stopped killing scum."

"I didn't assume it was," Tim said, "but you had to know that eventually he'd take notice of it, right?"

Jason grumbled something unkind and Kori reached over to place a hand on his arm. After a moment Jason relaxed. "Alright, so he's investigating me. What has he got so far?"

"We've been collecting data on your movements, the work Red Hood has been doing to keep the streets safe. Three completely separate human trafficking rings dismantled, nine drug rings destroyed, over a dozen abusive pimps put in jail or worse, not to mention all of the random people you've saved on the street. And through all of that, no one has died."

"A few people have died," Jason said. "I mean I didn't kill them, but I didn't really leave it so there was any other outcome."

Tim took a bite of his pancake and looked at Jason expectantly. Jason shifted in his chair. "Caught a corrupt cop in his house. Was trying to bust him on planting drugs, but I caught him with his hands in his daughter's underwear instead." Jason's voice became a low, dangerous growl. "I dragged him out of that house and kept him in the shed for a few hours, making sure he could  _ never  _ use his disgusting hands again. When he went to prison, I made sure every inmate and guard knew that he was not only a cop, but a pedophile too. He was stabbed in his cell three days into his stay. It took him three hours to bleed out, no one came to help him."

Silence stretched around them for a moment. Jason breathed deeply. "I can't say I've lost any sleep over it."

Tim cut another piece of his pancake away. "I probably wouldn't either," he said.

Jason raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't make any other comments. "So what's with the investigation? Shouldn't he just be hunting me down so he can stick me in Blackgate?"

"I told him about the night you found me on the roof," Tim said by way of answering. "I told him that I think you've changed since the last time in the city."

Jason snorted. "That's presumptuous of you."

Kori reached over and laid her hand on Jason's arm again. He looked at her and she reached up to cup his face, thumb stroking against his cheekbone. There were no words exchanged, but suddenly Tim felt like he was intruding on something intimate.

Eventually Jason let out a sigh and turned back to Tim. "So he's not trying to put me in prison, but what  _ is  _ he trying to do?"

"As far as I can tell?" Tim said, swallowing the last of his pancakes. "He's trying to see if you're still trying to kill us. He wants to know if he can trust you."

_ He wants to know if he can bring you home _ , Tim didn't dare say.

"He can't," Jason huffed. "If he shows up here, I'll kick his ass."

Tim hummed. "So you're going to leave Gotham?" he asked.

"Hell no, I'm not letting that asshole run me out of town," Jason hissed. "These are  _ my  _ streets, more than they ever were his."

"So when he eventually catches up to you, what's your plan?" Tim asked.

"Kick his ass, just said that," Jason huffed.

Tim caught Kori's eyes and they shared a look. Jason was strong and probably could hold his own against Batman, but that really wasn't what Bruce's plan was and they both knew it. Jason probably knew it as well, he just wasn't ready to admit to it yet.

"So Kori," Tim said, deciding a change in subject was the best course of action. "What have you been up to lately?"

Kori launched into a story about the recent mission she, Jason, and Roy had been doing, excitedly regaling Tim with tales of heroism. It was the kind of thing Tim had been hearing since he started as Robin, but he'd always loved the way Kori told them, she always managed to make them sound so grandiose.

"Where is Roy, by the way?" Tim asked, looking around.

"He's at his place in Star City," Jason said. "We don't all live together."

"I'm just visiting," Kori said with a shrug. "I have my ship which I live in most of the time."

"Well, you still have a room at the Tower," Tim said. "I know the Titans would be happy to have you back on the team."

Kori smiled softly at him. "Thank you Timothy, that's sweet of you."

Jason suddenly stood up. "Well, it was nice of you to drop by, but breakfast is done, bye," he said, starting to gather up the empty plates. He practically snatched Tim's out from under him and took them to the sink to start washing.

Kori rolled her eyes. "Do not pay him any mind Timothy, he told me just last night that you are his favourite brother."

"I said he was the one I found the least annoying," Jason called over his shoulder.

"Exactly!" Kori said. "The favourite!"

Jason swore a blue streak and Tim laughed. It felt bizarrely normal to sit in Jason Todd's apartment, laughing and joking with Kori while Jason banged around in the kitchen. Tim wondered at what exact point he had started being so comfortable with weirdness to the point that normalcy was the less comfortable scenario.

"Shouldn't you be leaving?" Jason growled, drying his hands. "Or should I throw you out?"

"I'm going, I'm going," Tim huffed, getting up from the table and gathering his things. He started heading for the door. "Thank you for breakfast, it really was delicious."

"Hold on a sec," Jason said, walking over to where Tim assumed the bedroom was. "I'll walk you out."

Tim refrained from saying something about making up his mind and waited. Kori puttered around the kitchen putting things away. "Is it strange?" he asked her.

"What is strange?" she asked, looking up.

"Dating Jason and Roy?" Tim asked.

Kori tilted her head. "Why would it be strange?"

"I mean," Tim shifted his weight on his feet, "you were dating Dick for so long. It's not… weird? To think about it?"

Kori hummed. "I suppose it is strange by your human standards, but on Tamaran this is not the case. Everyone is their own individual, and we are considered accordingly. There are of course taboos, but to become romantically entangled with an old lover's friends or siblings, especially so long after the old relationship has finished, it is not cause for any—what is your word? Scruples?"

" _ Scrutiny _ ," Tim corrected. "I guess it's not exactly 'taboo' here either."

Kori gave a huff that was half-laugh and half-scoff. "You earthlings have so many unwritten rules, and many of them do not even 'count', yet you call  _ me  _ the odd one," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Tim laughed. "On behalf of the human race, I apologize," he said, giving an exaggerated bow.

Kori laughed. "I, Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, graciously accept your apology, Timothy of Earth," she said, bowing back.

"What's he apologizing for?" Jason asked, emerging from the bedroom fully dressed. "Need me to kick his ass?"

Kori laughed. "Your chauvinism is charming but misplaced," she said. She floated over and kissed his cheek. "Have fun speaking to your brother, I am off to bathe." With that, she disappeared into the bathroom.

Jason grumbled something and walked over to Tim. "Get your shit and get the fuck out of my house already," he said, giving Tim a little shove.

"I'm going, I'm going," Tim huffed. "Geez, you're the one who asked me to wait."

"Wait in that direction," Jason growled, practically shoving him through the door. He locked it behind him and started following him down the hall. "How's your leg?" he asked, pulling out a cigarette case from his pocket.

"It's fine," Tim said. "Still in physical therapy for it, but I'm back to patrolling at least."

"Hm," Jason said, lighting up his cigarette and taking in a lungful of smoke. "How did the big bad Bat take it?"

"Take what?" Tim asked.

"When you told him about you trying to take the shortcut to ground level," Jason said. "Can't imagine it went well."

Tim groaned. "You have  _ no  _ idea," he said. He let out a long sigh. "No, he took it alright. It didn't happen the way I wanted it to, but at least he didn't yell. Dick yelled."

"Ugh, dick," Jason said, corner of his mouth twitching upwards when Tim chuckled. "But you're doing alright?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah I'm alright," he said. "I'm seeing a psychiatrist now, and it's… helping."

"Good," Jason said. "Roy's got a therapist, he says it helps."

"It's nerve wracking," Tim said with a shudder. "She keeps insisting I take  _ medication _ . The potential side effects of that stuff just makes my skin crawl."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Have you  _ tried  _ the medication yet?" he asked.

"No," Tim said, "but really, I don't need to get doped up to deal with life, I just need to get the gunk out of my head and I'll be fine. I didn't need medication before, I can go without it."

Jason rolled his eyes. "It's not gonna dope you up, it's probably a mood stabilizer. What's going to happen is your gonna feel like shit for a few weeks while your brain gets used to it, then you'll start to feel better, and eventually the side effects start evening out."

Tim looked up at Jason. "You seem… knowledgeable on the subject."

Jason gave a shrug. "Same thing happened to me is all," he said.

"You're on antidepressants?" Tim asked.

"Antipsychotics, actually," Jason said. "Started taking them about a year ago. Roy insisted I try seeing a head doctor and finally managed to trick me into it. Didn't see him for long, but he gave me a prescription for some crazy pills, which started to help after like, four months of taking them. Felt like shit at first, but my head… it's a lot clearer these days."

Tim watched Jason out of the corner of his eye. "Is that why you came back to Gotham?"

"Something like that," Jason said with another shrug. "It was… a contributing factor."

Tim hummed. "You know, it's actually kind of funny, but Dick and Bruce are also seeing therapists now."

"No fucking kidding?" Jason asked. "How'd  _ that  _ happen?"

"They said if I went, they'd go as well, as a show of solidarity," Tim said. "I'm pretty sure Bruce just goes to his and broods in complete silence across from the therapist for an hour." At least that's what Tim assumed he was doing. He couldn't picture Bruce opening up about his  _ feelings  _ to anyone, ever, at all. On the other hand, Dick seemed like he was responding well to therapy. He'd come back from the first few sessions fine, all smiles and cheer as usual, but after the fourth session he'd come home looking worn out and had clearly been crying. He'd shut himself up in his room for the rest of the day and had come down to dinner like nothing had happened.

Jason snorted. "Sounds like Bruce. Poor therapist."

Tim chuckled. "It's not all bad though. Dick actually came up with an idea to start a network of therapists who will work with superheroes. People who are willing to work around secret identities and deal with the necessary security measures. It's honestly gotten better reception than I expected."

"Yeah?" Jason asked. "How'd they take it when  _ Batman  _ showed his support for that?"

"Oliver Queen spent the entirety of a business meeting ranting about it," Tim said. "He almost fell out of his chair."

Jason laughed. "Oh man, Roy'll get a kick out of that."

They came to the window Tim had crawled through and carefully made their way down the fire escape. The snow had picked up while Tim was inside, heavy wet flakes clinging to anything they touched, making the rickety metal fire escape slick and slippery. Tim clung to the railing, not wanting to slip and fall on his leg and hurt it again. Jason followed him all the way to his car.

"Thanks for breakfast," Tim said. "Or, I guess it was brunch. It  _ was  _ actually really good. Alfred would be proud of you."

Tim would never be able to prove the flush of Jason cheeks was anything but the chill in the air, but there was no rule against quietly assuming. "Yeah well, thanks for giving me a heads up," he said. "You gonna tell him about seeing me today?"

"Do you want me too?" Tim asked.

Jason stopped for a moment, contemplating. He blew out the last of the smoke in his lungs and tossed the finished cigarette to the ground to crush it under his boot. "Take your meds, brat," he said. With that, he turned around and walked away.

Tim huffed and climbed into his car. He actually did have errands that he wanted to run, and he'd spent longer at Jason's than he'd planned to. He'd have to skip a few things in order to be able to make it to the important stuff.

A handful of hours later, Tim pulled into the parking lot for the theatre. Ives waved at him from the curb, bundled up against the cold. Tim smiled and got out, making sure to struggle slightly on his crutches. Ives stepped forward to help him inside the theatre.

"Hey man, it's been a while," Ives said, hugging Tim tightly.

"Too long," Tim agreed, hugging back as best he could. "How have you been?"

Ives told him about what he'd been up to since Tim had seen him last as they waited in line to get snacks. Though they'd kept up a decently frequent text message conversation, they hadn't actually seen each other in a few months. Tim actually hadn't seen any of his civilian friends in months, though that mostly consisted of Ives and Bernard. He made a mental note to try and reach out a little more.

"Anyway, that's what I've been doing," Ives said. "What about you? What's the bigshot CEO up to these days?"

"Taking some sick leave," Tim said. "I'm only just getting back into the swing of things now."

"Really? Must have been serious, you okay?" Ives asked.

"I'm fine, nothing to worry about," Tim assured him.

"Alright," Ives said, "but you know you could tell me, right? You're one of my oldest friends."

Tim smiled. "Thanks Ives," he said, feeling bad that he hadn't been paying as much attention to his friends as he should have.

Ives flashed him a crooked smile and stepped up to order their snacks and tickets. Tim insisted he pay as a tradeoff for Ives having to carry everything. They were seeing a new sci-fi movie that Ives had been raving about for ages, though Tim was a movie or two behind in the franchise. He had fun anyway, and he knew Ives loved explaining every detail when Tim asked questions. They probably got a few glares from other moviegoers, but Tim didn't really care.

After the movie they decided to head out to a café for an evening coffee before heading out, not wanting to let the night end. Ives ranted and raved about everything from the effects to the writing to the themes, gesticulating wildly as he made his points.

"Honestly, I don't get why all these guys are so mad about the protagonist," Ives huffed. "I thought she was great."

"I think it's because she's a  _ she _ , and that makes a lot of these guys mad because they don't like it when girls get their cooties all over their precious franchises," Tim said with a snort, stirring a packet of sugar into his coffee.

"Tragic," Ives said, shaking his head. "I, for one, enjoy seeing beautiful women who could kick my ass in all my favourite worlds. That's some sexy shit, you know what I'm saying?"

Tim laughed, but he felt his stomach twist. Most of his family knew by now, and he'd told his close friends, but no one else really knew. He hadn't come out to the rest of the Titans, no one at work knew either, and he hadn't brought it up with Ives or Bernard or any of his other civilian friends.

"Tim?" Ives asked. "You okay? You went all quiet."

"Sorry," Tim said, forcing a smile. He scraped his spoon against the bottom of his cup to make sure all of the sugar had dissolved. "Actually Ives, there's something I wanted to tell you."

"What's up?" Ives asked, trying to keep his face carefully neutral, but Tim could see his hand clench around his mug. He was worried but trying not to freak out.

"I um…" Tim set his spoon down and straightened his mug in the saucer. He took a deep breath and tried to keep himself calm. "So I wanted to tell you—I mean, I figured you should know…"

"Tim, you're starting to freak me out," Ives said, unable to hold in his concern anymore. "Please tell me you're not dying."

Tim couldn't help but laugh. "No, I'm not dying," he said.

"Good," Ives said, relaxing slightly. "So what is it?"

Tim's mouth felt dry and he took a sip of coffee, burning himself slightly. He set down the cup and took a deep breath. "I'm gay," he said.

Ives blinked. "Oh," he said.

Tim waited, hardly daring to blink or breathe. Ives took a sip of his latte, looking like he was lost in thought. Tim felt his heart start to trip in his chest.

"Is… is that okay?" Tim asked tentatively. Ives had been his friend since they were kids, since before Tim was even Robin. He didn't know what he would do if Ives rejected him.

"What?" Ives asked, looking back up at Tim. "Oh shit, yeah it's fine, it's fine. God, I'd never like,  _ hate  _ you for being gay, Tim."

Tim deflated, anxiety melting out of his shoulders. "Oh, good," he said.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out," Ives said, smiling at Tim. "Just, you know, processing it."

"I guess it's a bit sudden," Tim said.

"I mean, I'm  _ shocked _ , but not surprised, if that makes any sense?" Ives said. "Like, you've had so many gorgeous girls man."

"And none of them worked out," Tim said with a small chuckle.

"Seriously," Ives said. "I always wondered why you never seemed interested in the usual 'guy' stuff. Never really made the connection that you might be gay though."

Tim chuckled. "I'm not exactly a stereotype."

"That's true, but now that I know it's all starting to fall into place," Ives said. "You always seemed like you had some kind of secret or something."

Tim took a sip of coffee to mask whatever expression might have crossed his face. "Yeah, it's been on my mind for a while. It… I had a lot of trouble coming to terms with it."

"Really?" Ives asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're like the most self assured guy that I know."

Tim shrugged. "My dad… he wouldn't have been happy about it," he said softly, staring into his coffee. "My mom wouldn't have accepted it at all."

"Shit," Ives said. "I'm really sorry Tim."

"It's okay," Tim said. "I mean, it's  _ not _ , not really, but… I'm working on it."

Ives nodded, eyes cast down to the cheap diner table. The plaster was cracked in one corner, like it had been tipped over at some point. Ives cleared his throat. "But Mr. Wayne and the other guys, they're cool, right?"

Tim smiled. "Yeah they're cool. Bruce didn't say much, but he took me out for ice cream when I told him."

Ives snorted. "Yeah?"

"Dick's been kind of weird," Tim said. "Not like he's uncomfortable, but like he's trying really hard to show how much he supports me. Honestly it's sort of annoying."

Ives laughed. "I can imagine. What about the little gremlin?"

"Damian's been surprisingly okay," Tim said. "I don't think he's ever really been told that gay people exist, so there's no prejudice to work around. He's mostly just confused, which is actually pretty funny and almost borders on adorable sometimes. We have been getting along a lot better lately though, so that helps."

"That's good," Ives said. "So you're just out to your family right now?"

"And a couple other friends," Tim said. "I'm slowly getting around to everyone."

"That's good," Ives said. "Probably better to tell all the important people before you do any kind of public thing."

Tim pressed his lips together. He wasn't stupid, he knew he'd have to make a public announcement sooner or later. He was the youngest CEO in the world, and the adopted son of Bruce Wayne besides. He could hardly expect that people wouldn't start asking questions. Vicki Vale was probably already on his scent. Thinking about it made Tim want to crawl into bed and hide forever.

Seeming to sense that Tim did want to talk about it, Ives skipped on. "So, got a boyfriend?" he asked.

"No," Tim said. "I mean, there's a guy, kinda, but it isn't really a good time."

"When's ever a good time?" Ives asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes. "What's the guys name?"

"Conner," Tim answered before he could think better of it. "He's been a friend for years."

"Have I ever met him?" Ives asked.

"Don't think so? He doesn't live in the city," Tim said.

"Got a picture?" Ives asked.

Tim dug out his phone and started going through his photos, trying to find a picture of Kon that didn't reveal his identity. He found a picture that Martha Kent had taken of Kon, swimming in the pond last summer. He was shirtless and drenched, head tilted back joyfully in the sunshine, Krypto in his arms, equally soaked. It was a good picture, one that Kon had shared with the chat along with a bunch of dumb hashtags about #summerfun, #allnaturalbaby, and #iswearimnotamodel. They'd spent the day dunking on him, but Tim had secretly saved it to his own photos because it was actually nice. He tapped the photo and turned the phone so Ives could see.

Ives squinted at the photo, then glared at Tim. "Dude, that is  _ not  _ a real person," he said.

Tim snorted. "He's real," he said.

"No," Ives insisted. "There's no way people who look  _ that  _ perfect exist outside of movies. That has to be shopped."

"It's not," Tim said. He swiped to another photo, this one of Kon and Tim together, taken a few months before Kon died. They'd been hanging out in Gotham that day, getting snacks for movie night and Cassie had snapped a photo. Kon had his shirt on this time, but it was so tight that his broad frame was clearly discernible.

Ives glared at the photo. "That is so unfair," he said. "I was going to ask if you ever had a crush on me, but I can see I'm not your type. That guy is like two guys stacked on top of each other, holy shit."

Tim laughed. "He's got good genes," he said, stowing his phone. "He's really nice, you'd like him."

"I hate him," Ives huffed, slumping back in his seat. "I'm a vicious, jealous bitch and I hate him."

Tim threw his head back and laughed. It felt good to laugh about it, to talk to someone about the guy he had a crush on like it was normal and not something that Tim had been tearing himself apart over. He'd really missed it, that sense of normalcy in his life.

Ives finished pouting and smiled at Tim. "You really like this guy?"

Tim felt himself flush and Ives sniggered. "Guess that answers that question," Ives said. "You said you're not dating? Is he straight?"

"He's bisexual," Tim said. "And I think he likes me back, it's just…"

"Just what?" Ives asked. "If you like each other, what's keeping you? If I liked guys I'd hop on that side of beef like lightning."

Tim choked on a laugh. "I'll be sure to let him know that," he said. "I just… there's a lot I'm dealing with right now. I don't think it'd be healthy."

Ives stared at Tim for a while, assessing. Ives could be a bit of an idiot when it came to people, but he'd known Tim for a long time. Tim fidgeted a little, tapping his spoon slightly. "It's not that I don't  _ want  _ to," he said after a moment, "it just wouldn't be fair to put all this mess on him right now."

Ives hummed. "Right, because dating another person is about forcing them to deal with your shit and not, y'know, mutual companionship and support while you both deal with your own shit. Yup, totally makes perfect sense."

Tim grumbled. "It's really not that simple," he said.

"So? When's anything simple with you? Was it  _ simple _ when Steph had her baby? I wouldn't think so, but you stuck with her, didn't you? At least that's what you told me," Ives said. "Everything is always complicated Tim, it's never  _ not  _ complicated. The whole concept of being some kind of 'perfect' self when you date someone is horse crap. Life is a big, messy train wreck and the only thing you can do is find someone to hold your hand while you hurtle towards the inevitable firey crash at the end of the tunnel.”

Tim stared at Ives, surprised by the outburst. “That’s… weirdly poetic of you Ives,” he said.

“I have my moments,” Ives said. He smiled softly at Tim. “You’re my friend Tim, and I want you to be happy. If this guy makes you happy, you should totally go for it. So what if your life is crazy right now, when is it not? At least this way you can have someone to cuddle you at the end of the day.”

Tim thought about Kon, a thousand miles away in Kansas, probably still in the last class of the day. Just before bed, Tim would send him a message to see if he was still up, which he most likely would be due to the time difference. They’d talk for a while, then they’d say goodnight, and Tim would feel happy and content for a while, glad to have spoken to Kon. On calm nights, when Tim allowed himself to think about the future, sometimes he’d be able to imagine a version with Kon in it, lying next to him in bed at the end of the day. More and more, the thought didn’t make Tim’s gut twist with anxiety. More often than not, it was starting to make him feel… soft.

“I’ll… think about it,” Tim said. “I’ve still got some stuff I need to think about first.”

Ives hummed. “Well, whenever you're ready to get into the dating game, I’ll be there to give my unsolicited opinions on your giant dumb jock boyfriends.”

Tim smiled. “Thanks Ives,” he said.

They talked for a while longer, caught up with each other’s lives, and parted ways with promises to hang out more when they could. It had stopped snowing, but the drifts were high and Tim considered just ditching the crutches and walking normally. He was nearly at his car when he looked up and noticed the pharmacy across the street.

_ Take your meds, brat _ , Jason had flung the words at him as he’d walked away, but Tim had kept them simmering in the back of his mind. The Jason that Tim had known from over a year ago was a very different person than the man Tim had eaten brunch with that afternoon. It couldn’t just be the medicine, there were probably a dozen other factors at play, but…

Tim sighed and started walking to the crosswalk. The prescription for antidepressants had remained tucked in his wallet for the last few weeks felt heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _vastly_ oversimplified how antidepressant and antipsychotic medication works here, as it's actually a super complicated process of finding the right medicine over often months or even years long period of time. No one medication works for everyone and it takes a lot of work to figure that out. For the sake of brevity and not driving me insane with research and detailing how it all went down within the confines of the fic, we're just going to take some artistic liberties.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 3am and I forgot to post this earlier but it's fine it's fine. I think there was something I was going to say but I can't think for shit right now. Goodnight.
> 
> I don't think there are any triggers in this chapter but if there are I'm sure you'll let me know and I can add them.

Despite the rocky way Tim had been found out, Kon could admit that he was grateful for how it had all turned out. Tim was finally getting the help he needed, and was also on better terms with his family, now that everything was out in the open. On top of that, the larger hero community was becoming more aware of the toll of mental health on everyone, and now taking steps to set up a network of mental health professionals, something Kon was considering taking advantage of.

There was also the bonus that he got to see Tim each week in Metropolis.

Tim's psychiatrist was located in Metropolis, and so he had to commute from Gotham each week—not much of an obstacle for someone with a private jet, but Tim hated to take it out for such short trips. They'd ultimately decided to arrange it for Friday after school got out in Kansas, so Kon could come pick Tim up after his session ended and they could hang out for the rest of the afternoon.

Kon touched down on the top of the high rise Tim's psychiatrist's office was in. The rooftop access door was locked and alarmed, but Kon had figured out how to disable it with his TTK to get inside (and relock it once he was inside). He took the stairs down to the 18th floor and quickly found the office, slipping inside to wait.

There was no receptionist, as per the security measures Tim's family had insisted on, but there was a little waiting area with a couple of plush chairs. Kon dropped his backpack beside one and flopped down into it with a sigh. He usually didn't have to wait too long for Tim to emerge, but it was hit or miss whether or not Tim would be in a mood to do much hanging out after having his brain poked at for an hour.

The door clicked open and Kon looked up to see Tim walk out, leaning on a fake cane. "Hey," Kon said, jumping up to give Tim a quick hug. "How was it today?"

"It was fine," Tim said, leaning into the hug and smiling up at Kon.

"Anything in particular?" Kon asked, scooping up his bag and holding the door open for Tim.

Tim hesitated before saying anything. "Was there anything you wanted to do today? I said I'd be back before nine as usual, but I can let them know if I'll be late."

Kon could take a hint; Tim didn't want to talk about whatever had happened in therapy today. "I was thinking maybe some lunch? Did you eat today?" he suggested.

"I had breakfast," Tim said, rolling his eyes.

"Let's get lunch," Kon said, pushing the button for the elevator.

When Tim had told everyone that he was taking medication to help stabilize his mood, Kon hadn't really known what to expect. It ended up being a little scary at first when the side effects had decreased Tim's appetite and given him bouts of nausea, causing him to lose about twenty pounds within a few weeks. On someone like Bruce or even Dick it would barely be noticeable, but on someone's Tim's size it was cause for concern, making him look frail and ill. Luckily, with a few adjustments to the medication and Tim's diet he'd gained most of the weight back, but Kon, channeling Ma Kent, tried to make sure Tim ate something as often as possible.

Kon led Tim out of the building and into the cold winter afternoon. "Anything in particular you're in the mood for?" he asked.

"I'm not particularly hungry," Tim pointed out.

"So something light," Kon said. "I know a good kebab cart that's close."

Tim sighed and gave in. "Sure, a kebab sounds good."

Kon smiled and began leading Tim down the street, careful to walk slowly so Tim didn't fall behind with his fake cane. He'd finally ditched the crutches and braces, figuring enough time had passed for the suspicion that Tim Wayne might be Red Robin to have passed. Kon would have been fine just carrying Tim, but he wouldn't put it past Tim to be carrying some concealed Kryptonite to knock him over the head with if he tried.

The kebab cart was in it's usual spot, and Kon got in line. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Veggie kebab," Tim said, fishing around for his wallet and handing Kon a twenty.

They'd had the argument about who should pay for food a million times before, but Tim always won out with the 'adopted son of a billionaire' line, so now everyone just let Tim pay for things. Kon was certain Tim would pay everyone's bills for everything for the rest of their lives if they so much as made the  _ implication  _ of asking. Kon was going to wake up one day with several million in his bank account for no other reason than Tim felt like it.

The kebabs steamed in the cold air. Tim took his and nibbled on a green pepper. "You know these carts are banned in Gotham?"

"Yeah?" Kon asked, sliding a chunk of lamb off the stick.

"Too many potential health risks," Tim said.

Kon hummed. "Kind of ironic considering it's, y'know,  _ Gotham _ ."

Tim snorted. "Plus there'd be so much regulation involved and Gotham is notoriously lazy on that front."

"That sounds more like the city we know and fear," Kon said. "Seriously, you ever think about moving out?"

"Moving out?" Tim asked.

"Out of Gotham," Kon said, "like Nightwing did."

Tim blinked. "Um, no I hadn't thought about it," he said.

"Well," Kon said, munching on an onion, "it's up to you in the end."

Tim hummed and went quiet, chewing thoughtfully on his kebab. Kon left him alone to his thoughts for the moment, knowing that Tim would say something if he felt it was necessary. Kon finished off his kebab and found a bin for his stick and napkins.

"Alright, what next?" Kon asked.

Tim flicked his stick into the bin, nailing it with barely a modicum of concentration—the little show off—and looked up at Kon. For a moment he seemed to be studying Kon, searching for something in his eyes. Kon suddenly felt several degrees warmer.

"Something on my face?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. It was hard not to feel dissected under that piercing blue gaze.

Tim watched him for a moment longer, then smiled softly. "Why don't we walk through the shopping district?" he suggested.

Kon could practically  _ see  _ Tim putting his walls back up. "Sure," he said, not knowing what else to say.

There were many shopping 'districts' throughout Metropolis, but the main one was in the heart of the city and stretched along a certain road. Fancy boutiques lined the street along with larger chain stores, interspersed with cafés and restaurants ever hundred feet or so. With the arrival of winter, Christmas decorations had appeared, barfing holiday cheer into everyone's eyes and ears, despite Christmas being weeks away.

Kon kept his pace slow to accommodate Tim, keeping pace with his shorter gait. Despite the cold, the crowds were as bustling as ever, forcing them to walk close together or otherwise get separated. Every so often their arms would brush against one another.

_ I really want to hold his hand _ , Kon thought.

"It's terrible," Tim said suddenly.

"What?" Kon asked, snapping back into reality. "What's terrible?"

Tim gestured to the giant inflatable Santa that was partially obstructing the sidewalk. "It's not even December yet. And why does it have to be right in the middle of the sidewalk?"

Kon snorted. "I keep forgetting you hate Christmas."

"I don't  _ hate  _ Christmas," Tim said, rolling his eyes. "I just hate that Christmas has become the be-all-end-all of the holidays. It's a capitalist, consumerist hellscape  _ nightmare  _ where the only thing that matters is buying the most expensive gift and most elaborate decorations. Whatever remains of the  _ actual  _ holiday is chopped up and packaged into neat little boxes, ready to be sold to the masses with the original meaning of the holiday so obscured as to be  _ indecipherable _ . I mean, at least Halloween has some  _ personality _ ."

Kon tried to hide the smile on his face as Tim continued, getting more and more animated as he ranted. "And anyone who  _ isn't  _ Christian is forced to sit through the rest of the country's manic obsession with this holiday, as if they needed yet  _ another  _ reminder that we live in a theocratic nightmare dimension where Christianity is catered to at every turn. Heaven forbid someone  _ not  _ celebrate Christmas, depriving their children of such an important ritual of hyper-consumerism. You don't see Jewish people making a huge stink about Passover when Easter comes around. Fuck it, most non-Jewish people don't even  _ know  _ about the High Holidays, the only Jewish holiday they have any  _ inkling  _ about is Chanukah because that's the one that lines up with Christmas!"

By the time he finished, Tim was almost panting. Kon gave up on hiding his smile, openly grinning down at him. Tim flushed a little and cleared his throat. "But, you know, the holiday itself can be fine."

Kon snorted. "Sure, whatever you say,  _ Grinch _ ."

Tim huffed. "I just don't care for all the hype is all," he said.

"I like Christmas," Kon said. "But then again, it's about a family of refugees trying to find a safe haven after their home is destroyed. I guess my family has a more personal connection," he explained. "And also the baby has superpowers, so there's that too."

Tim chuckled. "See?  _ That's  _ what I'm talking about. The holiday  _ can  _ be meaningful, it's just swallowed up by the tsunami of consumerism, materialism, and capitalism."

"So says the adopted son of a billionaire who was also born into a wealthy family and has never struggled financially ever." Kon said.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Fine, so I don't have the benefit of an insiders perspective. That doesn't make me not right."

"Whatever you say," Kon said, nudging Tim with his shoulder.

Tim rolled his eyes again and tried to shove Kon back, but underestimated how solidly Kon would plant himself and slipped on a patch of ice. He'd hardly started to fall, inhaling sharply as gravity took over, when Kon surged forward, grabbing Tim and hauling him back up. They over balanced slightly and Kon had to stabilize them with his TTK, but Tim still ended up pressed into Kon's chest, clinging to him tightly. His cane clattered to the snowy sidewalk

"You okay?" Kon asked, listening to Tim's heart settle down.

"Yeah fine, just lost my balance," Tim said, getting his feet under him again. He looked up at Kon, and Kon realized all at once how close they were.

Tim was pressed flush against him, Kon's arms encircling his smaller body as though they were embracing. Tim's face was inches away, startled blue eyes staring back up at him. Almost microscopic snowflakes landed on the thick black lashes and pale skin. Kon, still listening to Tim's heart, heard it start to speed up, causing his cheeks to flush. Tim's lips parted, inhaling like he was about to say something, but the words not coming. If Kon leaned down just an inch or two, he could have kissed that pink mouth.

Kon  _ really  _ wanted to kiss him.

A car horn blared, startling them both. Tim coughed and pushed against Kon's chest, finally righting himself. He bent to pick up his cane. "We should probably start heading back," he said, "unless there was something in particular you wanted to do."

_ I want to kiss you _ , Kon thought. "Um, not really," he said.

Tim nodded and stalked off back in the direction they came. Kon followed along behind, staring at the tense line of Tim's shoulders.

Tim didn't want to date yet, and Kon was fine with that, he understood. As much as it was killing Kon not to just scoop Tim up in his arms and promise him the world, he knew Tim wasn't in a place where he'd welcome that. Honestly there were probably a few things that Kon needed to work on himself before he was ready to date anyone as well.

But that didn't stop him from  _ wanting _ .

Since his realization on the mountain, hardly a day went by without Kon wondering what Tim was up to, without him fantasizing about what they might do if they ever did get together, without Kon remembering what happened in the Paris catacombs. Kon had jerked off to the memory of Tim writhing underneath him, begging for him, more times than he could count. Even when Kon had been in the grips of his vicious nightmares, he would find himself wondering what Tim was up to, how his day had been, and if Tim was thinking about him too.

_ I love you _ , Kon thought.  _ I wish you'd let me tell you. _

They walked in silence for a while. Around them the sky was starting to darken. Kon tried to think of something to extend their time together, he didn't want Tim to leave just yet. He looked around and noticed a particular store.

"Hey Tim, wait up for a sec," Kon said.

Tim stopped and turned back. "What?"

"Cassie said she wants a pride shirt," Kon said. "This store here has a selection."

Tim looked up at the store. "It's a craft store," he said.

"Yeah, but they had shirts when I was there a while ago," Kon said. "Come on, they might still have stuff in stock."

Tim hesitated a moment, but then followed Kon into the store. Kon led him towards the section of the store where he'd seen the shirts.

"She wanted a bi one specifically, so I don't know if we'll find one," Kon said, starting to flick through the shirts. "There's always a million gay rainbows on everything, and it's impossible to find anything in any other flags."

Tim chuckled. "I feel kinda bad, since I'm the one who's actually gay," he said. He looked through a few shirts, brow furrowing ever so slightly.

Kon could guess what Tim was thinking. "I think there are some pins back in that section over there, if you want something more subtle," he offered.

Tim flashed him a grateful smile. "Thanks, I'll go see what they have."

Kon smiled and went back to perusing the shirts. He pulled out a couple that seemed like they would suite Cassie and laid them out, trying to decide. He was concentrating so much that he didn't notice someone approaching him until they were right behind him.

"Hey, I was hoping to see you again."

Kon jolted and turned, swearing internally. He suddenly remembered what had happened the last time he'd been to this store, and the reason he hadn't been back since.

Adrian stood a few feet away, just as monochromatic as the last time Kon had seen him. He smiled up at Kon hopefully, almost shyly, shifting on his feet as though he was nervous. Under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights he almost didn't seem real.

Kon cursed himself out as he tried to think of what to say. He hadn't contacted Adrian since the last time he'd seen him, so much else having happened at the same time that it had slipped his mind to contact him again. By the time he realized he hadn't reached out to apologize, it had been several weeks and felt too awkward to try and contact him again.

"Hey," Kon said, still panicking. "How have you been?"

"Been good," Adrian said. "You?"

"I've been good," Kon answered. The awkward tension in the air was tangible. Kon wanted to fly out the window and crawl into his bed for the next thirty years.

Adrian cleared his throat. "I'm uh, glad I ran into you again. I wanted to talk to you."

Kon groaned. "Listen Adrian—"

"Please, let me say this," Adrian said. "I wanted to say sorry for how I acted that night."

"Really?" Kon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Adrian nodded. "I was a brat, I shouldn't have put you in that position. And I… want to say thanks… for not taking advantage of me."

"Oh, I mean, of course," Kon bumbled. "I'd never take advantage of someone like that."

_ Aside from that one time you took advantage of Tim when he wasn't in the right headspace to consent either _ , Kon berated himself.

Adrian smiled. "I appreciate it," he said. He took a deliberate step closer, not quite into Kon's personal space, but close enough to be on the edge. "I still want to make up for what I did though. Maybe we could go out sometime? No drinking this time, I promise."

_ Fuck _ . "Um, I don't know if—"

"Kon?"

Kon whipped his head around so quickly he was sure he heard something snap. Tim stood on the other side of the rack of T-shirts, watching everything unfold.

"Tim! Hey hi," Kon said, plastering on a grin. "This is, uh—"

"I'm Adrian," Adrian said, glancing from Tim to Kon and back. There was a tone in his voice Kon couldn't quite decipher.

Tim apparently had no such trouble reading Adrian's tone. "Yes, I can read your nametag," he said, in his perfect polite business voice. He raised an eyebrow at Kon. "Should I go wait while you finish up—?"

"No no, it's fine," Kon said, hoping his voice conveyed enough  _ please don't leave me alone _ to stop Tim from walking away. "Actually, can you help me decide on a shirt for Cassie?"

Tim walked around the side of the rack, exaggerating his limp slightly. "Between those two? I'd go with the white. Suits Cassie better and the design is more her style."

"Good call," Kon said, stowing the black T-shirt and grabbing the white one. He smiled awkwardly as he tried to shuffle around Adrian. "Sorry, I should probably go to pay for this. Maybe some other time?"

"Yeah sure," Adrian said, crossing his arms and looking away. "You've got my number," he said, loud enough to make sure Tim heard him.

"Yup, sure do," Kon said, hating himself more with each syllable. "I'll uh, text you."

"I might be busy," Adrian said. He finally looked back up at Kon, something else in his eyes now. "It was nice to see you again."

"Yeah, same," Kon said. They held gazes for a moment before Kon slipped passed and trotted over to Tim.

Tim, thankfully, didn't ask who Adrian was, or how Kon knew him. He remained completely silent as they went up to the cash to pay for their things. Kon got the shirt for Cassie, and Tim got a small enamel pin of a bird with rainbow wings.

Tim remained silent as they left the store, the darkness now having completely settled in. Kon wracked his brain for some way to break the tension. He'd meant to try and beat the awkwardness from earlier with his little detour into the store, and now they were in a whole new level of awkward.

"Tim?" Kon asked tentatively. "Uh, that back there, it wasn't—"

"You know you don't have to wait for me, right?" Tim said suddenly, cutting Kon off.

"What?" Kon asked. "Wait for you? But I walk faster."

"No, I mean—" Tim made a frustrated noise. "You don't have to wait around for me to be ready to date. You can see other people if you want. You've obviously got options."

Kon blinked. "Well that's, um—"

"It's really okay Kon," Tim said, shoulders hunching like he was trying to make himself smaller. "I don't want you to think that you need to wait on me forever."

"Maybe  _ I _ want to wait," Kon said, the words bursting from his chest. "Yeah maybe I don't need to wait, but it's not like I want to date anyone else."

Tim stopped in the middle of the street and turned to stare at him. Kon waved a hand around uselessly. "Listen, that guy, Adrian? He's nice and everything, and honestly if I'd realized I was bi years ago when  I was still a horny little shit who chased beach babes all over Hawaii, I'd be all over him like white on rice. But I've grown up since then, and I've realized a bunch of stuff about myself. Chasing hotties? It's nice, it's great even, but being with someone you have a deep, genuine connection with? There aren't words to describe that feeling."

"So sure, maybe I don't  _ have  _ to wait for you," Kon said, "but it honestly never occurred to me to even consider anyone else, at least not seriously. Right now I want  _ you _ Tim, and I'm willing to wait as long as you need for that."

Tim stared at Kon with wide eyes, mouth slightly parted in shock. Kon stepped forward into Tim's personal space, reaching up with one hand to cup his cold cheek, thumb tracing the slightly more pronounced ridge of cheekbone. "Whenever you're ready, just let me know. Contrary to evidence, I  _ can  _ be patient."

Tim huffed out a laugh and leaned into the touch, his eyes going wet. He took a deep breath and leaned into Kon, resting his forehead on Kon's chest. Kon wrapped his arms around Tim, holding him close and resting his chin on top of his head.

"I don't know if I'll  _ ever  _ be ready," Tim said softly. "I don't know if I'll ever be a hundred percent comfortable with this part of myself."

"It's really alright—," Kon started to say.

"But  _ I _ don't want to wait forever either," Tim said. "I… I  _ want  _ to be with you Kon, and I want to be okay with wanting that. I don't know if I can ever be okay," he shifted and pulled back so he could look up into Kon's eyes, "but maybe… I want to try."

Kon sucked in a breath. "Tim… are you sure?"

"No," Tim said. "I have no idea. I know what I  _ want _ , and I… I know I've been doing a lot better lately. The medication is actually working now, I don't feel like I want to shred my skin to pieces every time I think about being gay for the rest of my life, but I still feel… scared, about so much. I don't know if I'll ever  _ not  _ be scared, but I do know that I want to be with you."

Kon's chest like it was about to burst. Once again he was suddenly aware of how close they were, of how easy it would be to lean down and kiss him. Tim glanced down at Kon's mouth, breath hitching slightly.

"I… I want to  _ try _ ," he said, voice barely more than a whisper. "But… promise me, if it doesn't work out, we won't… we won't stop being friends."

"Never," Kon said, shaking his head. "I could never not be your friend Tim. I need you in my life, no matter what." He paused for a moment, eyes dropping to Tim's pink mouth. "Tim… can I—?"

Tim was trembling in his arms. He let out a shaky breath and nodded once. Kon swallowed thickly, heart pounding in his ears. Slowly, in case Tim changed his mind, Kon leaned down and pressed his lips to Tim's.

The kiss was immediately electrifying, sending a shock through Kon's body almost enough to knock him over. Tim's lips were cold under his, but so incredibly soft. His breath hitched as Kon made contact, body tensing slightly, but quickly relaxing into it with a sigh. Kon wanted to drink in that sigh for the rest of his life.

It must have lasted only a moment, but it felt like an eternity later when they parted. They stayed close, noses nearly touching, their breaths coming out in clouds. Kon let out a long sigh and rested his forehead against Tim's.

"Hey," he said, grin spreading across his face.

Tim giggled. "Hi," he answered.

Kon chuckled, giving Tim a tight squeeze. Tim clung to Kon's jacket and they stayed there for a while, not wanting to break the moment. A cold wind whipped past them and Tim shivered.

"We should probably go inside," Kon said. "You're going to get cold.

Tim nodded. "Okay," he said.

Slowly they pulled apart, not wanting to let go. Kon reached out, fingertips brushing against the back of Tim's hand, asking for permission. Tim turned his hand and laced his fingers through Kon's, squeezing slightly. Kon smiled and squeezed back, the two of them walking home hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next; smooches


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly finished a while ago but I had one last scene to get through and I finally managed it. I feel like I'm a little all over the place with this fic sometimes, like my direction is a little squirrelly. I'm hoping to wrap it up in a few more chapters, but I'm notoriously bad for saying that I'll end it soon and then going for several more chapters lol. We'll see what happens I guess.
> 
> Trigger warning for masturbation.

They ended up heading back to Clark's apartment. Neither Clark or Lois were home, both of them still at work. Leaving the lights off, Tim followed Kon to his bedroom, the two of them giggling like naughty children cutting class. Once inside they divested themselves of their heavy winter coats and crawled under the covers of Kon's loft bed.

It was really too narrow for both of them, so they had to squeeze in close. Kon wrapped an arm around Tim's waist to help stabilize him and nuzzled close. They kept their clothing on and didn't go farther than kissing, but by the hour mark Tim felt flushed with giddiness.

"I can't believe I waited so long for this," Tim giggled against Kon's cheek.

"Why are you  _ talking _ ?" Kon replied with a huff, though Tim could feel his smile against his ear. "More kissing please."

Tim laughed and obliged, sliding one hand up Kon's arm to feel his thick bicep. Kon hummed into the kiss, flexing his bicep for Tim to feel, making him laugh again. It felt silly and sweet, not at all terrifying like Tim had expected it to. Kon's warm presence around him made him feel oddly safe and protected, like all the world could fall around them and it wouldn't reach their snug little pocket of each other.

Ever since his talk with Ives, Kon had been on his mind. Ives's words had floated through his mind, whispered in his ear. Earlier that day Tim had brought the subject up with his therapist, asking for her advice. Then earlier at the shop, the way that other boy had leaned in, Tim had felt a surge of jealously so hot he'd been surprised steam hadn't come out of his ears. The heat had cooled almost the moment they'd left, when Tim realized he had no right to be jealous. Kon wasn't his, and Tim couldn't be mad at him when  _ he  _ was the one who'd said he wasn't ready.

Kon tilted his head to deepen the kiss, groaning into Tim's mouth. He squeezed Tim's hip and slid his hand upward. HIs fingers dragged against Tim's shirt, pulling it up slightly. Kon's warm palm came in contact with Tim's comparatively cooler skin.

_ Kon began to rock his hips, keeping the pace slow at first. Tim whined and canted his hips up, trying to get him to move faster. He wrapped his arms around Kon’s broad shoulders, clawing at his impenetrable skin, one glove still on. Kon growled and started to up his pace, Tim begging for faster, harder, more until Kon was slamming into him. _

Tim jolted, breaking the kiss with a gasp. Immediately Kon's hands left and he scooted back as far as he could go on the narrow bed.

"Shit, sorry sorry," Kon said. "Fuck, did I hurt you? I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm fine," Tim said, catching his breath. "You didn't hurt me, I was just a little startled is all."

"Are you sure?" Kon asked, hand fluttering over Tim like he wanted to help him but was too scared to actually touch him.

"Really, I'm okay," Tim said. "I just—" he took a deep breath, the memories of Paris washing over him.

Kon stared at him in concern. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?" he asked, eyes filled with worry.

Tim shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. "Sorry, I guess I just freaked out a little."

A moment passed, then Kon relaxed with a sigh. "Geez," he breathed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," Tim said. He wished Kon would come closer again. "I guess I still have some stuff I need to work on."

Kon sighed again. "Yeah, me too," he said.

They went quiet for a while, each of them lost in thought. Tim wondered what Kon felt he needed to work on, but didn't asked, worried that it might be too personal.

After a few minutes of silence, Kon made a move to reach for Tim again, then stopped. "If… if you want to call it off, I won't be mad," he said. "We can forget this ever happened."

Tim felt his throat tighten. "Do  _ you  _ want to call it off?" he asked.

"No, of course not," Kon answered quickly. "I mean, if  _ you  _ want to, of course I'll go along. I'm not going to force you to—"

"I want to," Tim said. "I mean, I  _ don't  _ want to call it off. I want to… keep going."

Kon took a deep breath, broad chest rising and falling. "Okay, good," he said.

For a moment they both seemed too nervous to move, then Tim cautiously scooted closer. Encouraged, Kon draped his arm back over Tim, carefully keeping his hand further up towards his waist. Kon leaned over him and kissed his cheek, before ducking to catch his lips again. Tim sighed into the kiss, pressing himself into Kon's warm chest.

Tim had avoided thinking about Paris as much as possible, even after reconnecting with Kon. It just felt like such a taboo thing to think about. He hadn't even brought the subject up with his psychiatrist, even though the incident was possibly the catalyst for his spiral downwards. Even he and Kon hadn't really touched on the subject, though they'd had the opportunity. Tim wished he could just erase the whole thing from his mind.

They stayed wrapped up in one another for a while, exchanging kisses every so often, slowly regaining the comfort from earlier. Just as Tim was putting Paris out of his mind, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall.

"Kon? You awake?" Lois called through the door.

"Shit," Kon swore. "I'm up! Don't come in!"

Lois's steps paused at the door. "Okay then, well, we're having dinner soon, so make sure to wash up," she called through the door.

"I will, thanks Mom," Kon called.

"You're welcome," Lois said. There was a short pause before she spoke again. "Clark would like to know if Tim would like to stay for dinner."

Kon groaned and Tim snorted. "Busted," he said.

With a sigh, Kon sat up to look at Tim. "Want to stay for dinner?" he asked.

"Sure," Tim said. "I just need to call Alfred."

Kon nodded and pushed back the covers of the bed, hopping down from the loft. Tim shivered slightly with the accompanying chill, but followed Kon out of the bed. Kon opened the door to reveal Lois Lane.

"Hi Lois," Tim said, giving a little wave.

"Hi Tim," Lois said, smiling at him. "You like Chinese?"

"Yes," Tim answered. "Just let me call home and let them know."

"Sure thing kiddo, don't forget to wash up," she said, starting to walk back down the hallway. "Kon keep your door open please."

"Moooom," Kon groaned, burying his flushed face in his hands. Tim chuckled and went to fish his phone out of his discarded coat.

After a quick call home, Kon and Tim wandered out to the kitchen and living area where Clark was unpacking the Chinese takeout and Lois was setting the table. Clark smiled when he caught sight of Tim. "Hey Tim, nice to see you."

"Hello Clark," Tim said. It was always a little odd to meet a Justice League member in a domestic setting. Sometimes even he forgot that superheroes had normal lives most of the time.

"How was your day?" Clark asked, smiling brightly, glancing between him and Kon.

"It was fine," Tim said.

"Anything new happen?" Clark asked, clearly fishing for confirmation.

Tim sucked in a sharp breath. He'd been so caught up with Kon, he hadn't really considered that they would have to  _ tell  _ people, or that people would  _ know _ . Suddenly Tim didn't have much of an appetite.

Kon seemed to notice Tim's sudden change. He reached up to put has hand on Tim's arm, but Tim stepped away.

"Actually, I'm suddenly not feeling well," Tim said.

"Oh," Clark said, smiling fading from his face. "Alright well, do you want something? I think we have ibuprofen in the bathroom."

"No, it's—I'm just going to lie down for a minute," Tim said, heading back to Kon's bedroom. He shut the door behind him and sank down onto Kon's computer chair. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, trying to steady his breathing.

A large, warm hand landed on his shoulder. "Tim?" Kon asked. "Are you okay?"

"I don't want to tell people yet," Tim blurted out. "I can't—I'm not ready for people to know."

"Okay," Kon said. "It's okay, that's fine. We don't have to tell anyone."

Tim took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly. "I just… I just need to get used to this first,"

"Of course," Kon said. "I get it. We just got together like, what? Two hours ago? We haven't even gotten close to being official enough to tell people."

"Clark knows," Tim said. "He already knows."

"He  _ thinks  _ he knows," Kon said, waving a hand. "If we don't tell him, he doesn't know anything."

Tim took a few more deep breaths, doing the mental exercises his psychiatrist had given him. Kon rubbed his back, a steady presence next to him. Eventually Tim managed to calm himself down, sagging listlessly in the chair. Kon scooted forward and kissed his forehead.

"Do you want to go home?" Kon asked, lips brushing his hairline.

"No, I'll be fine," Tim said. "Sorry, I guess I freaked out over nothing."

"It's not nothing babe," Kon said, kissing his forehead again. "If it freaks you out like this, it's not nothing."

Tim took a deep breath, soaking in Kon's comforting presence. "I'm okay now," he said.

"You sure? They won't be mad if you want to go home," Kon said.

Tim nodded. "I'm fine," he said. "Plus now I'm craving Chinese food."

Kon snorted. "Okay," he said. He helped Tim out of the chair and pulled him in for a quick hug. "We'll tell Clark to mind his business."

Tim smiled. "Thanks," he said.

Kon gave him one last squeeze before letting him go. They went back out to the dining area where most of the food had been laid out. Clark and Lois were speaking quietly in the corner of the room, and quieted when Kon and Tim entered.

"Hey, feeling better?" Lois asked, smiling even through the worry in her voice.

"I'm fine," Tim said.

"Yeah he just got dizzy," Kon said. "He was dizzy earlier, so we were lying down to have a bit of a nap."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yup," Kon said. "So if you heard us in bed together, that was what you heard."

"Ah, I see," Clark said. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling better Tim. You sure you don't want to head home?"

"I'm alright," Tim said, putting on a smile.

"Well, if that's all settled," Lois said, interjecting into the slightly tense atmosphere of the room, "let's sit down and have dinner."

Dinner ended up being a pleasant affair, all things considered. It had been a while since he'd seen Lois or Clark outside of a work setting, and it was nice to catch up with them. Lois was actually working on a story about a current project that Lexcorp had it's sticky fingers in, and had turned up a handful of connections to Wayne Industries.

"I'd be happy to make a statement if you want," Tim offered.

"That's sweet of you honey," Lois said. "I think I've got is covered so far, though if you wouldn't mind giving me permission to sniff around the premises, it would be greatly appreciated."

"You know you're welcome any time," Tim said. "I don't think Bruce would mind at all. Especially if you ferreted out a couple of potentially corrupt employees in our ranks."

Lois laughed. "I'll keep that in mind," she said. "Speaking of Bruce though, how is he? Clark told me about his proposal for a mental health network through the Justice League. I wouldn't have expected that from him."

Tim took a moment to gather his thoughts as he chewed on some almond chicken. "Well, it was actually Dick's idea initially," he explained. "They realized that there were so many security risks associated with people in the superhero community that it was actually preventing some people from getting the help they might need. So Dick proposed creating a network of therapists and psychiatrists that would be able to handle the amount of security needed, as well as had the right experience to work with superheroes."

Lois hummed. "I think that's a really good idea. Mental health is often overlooked when it comes to health care. Most insurance plans don't even include the most basic mental health management services."

"It's a gap in the system, that's for certain," Tim said. "I actually started drawing up plans for a similar plan for WE, though with Gotham's track record with psychiatrists, it might not pan out."

Lois chuckled. "It does seem like there have been an unusually high number of psychiatrists and psychologists gone bad in Gotham."

"I think that's just because Gotham attracts a certain kind of crazy," Kon said.

"I've attempted a few studies of crime rates in Gotham, and honestly it's kind of baffling," Clark said. "Very few cities even come close to the amount of crime that happens in Gotham."

"I think per capita, Bludhaven actually has more," Tim said. "At least for gang related crimes and police corruption."

They continued the conversation of comparing cities crime rates, discussing the different kinds of crimes that were localized in each city (Metropolis, for example, had a higher rate of corporate corruption than most other cities), and even contributing factors involved. Eventually they got on the subject of strange laws that existed.

"Did you know that Alaska has a law that bans people from throwing moose out of helicopters?" Tim said.

Kon snorted. "Okay, dismissing the fact that  _ no one does that _ , how would you even get a moose  _ into  _ a helicopter? Have you seen a moose? They're  _ huge _ ."

"I've lifted entire bridges, and moose are still terrifying," Clark said.

"No animal should be that big," Kon said, shaking his head.

"I hate to consider what you think of elephants," Lois said.

"The thing  _ is _ ," Kon said, "is that you  _ expect  _ elephants to be big. They're elephants, they're  _ supposed  _ to be elephant sized. But moose, your brain kind of thinks of them as like, horse sized. Then you see one and they're fucking nine feet tall and built like tanks."

Tim laughed, glad that his earlier fit had been forgotten. They continued the pleasant conversation all throughout the rest of dinner and desert. Tim offered to help clean up afterwards, but Lois waved him off.

"Clark and Kon can handle it," she said. "You should sit. If you were dizzy earlier, you should rest."

"I'm fine now, really," Tim insisted.

"And we're going to try and keep you that way," Lois said. For a moment, it seemed like she wanted to say something, but then decided against it. She smiled at him and shooed him towards the living room. "Sit, you're a guest."

"I feel bad though," Tim said, letting himself be ushered.

"You have a butler who does all of your housework," Kon said, poking his head over the divide between the kitchen and living room.

"He also taught me manners and common courtesy," Tim pointed out. "Like being a polite houseguest."

"I'll fill out your comment card with a good review," Kon said, rolling his eyes and going back to drying.

It was late by the time Tim was ready to go home. He'd sent the jet back without him, not wanting the polite to be stuck until he decided he was ready to head home, so Kon was going to fly him back to Gotham. Tim bundled up against the cold, borrowing Kon's coat as well for the wind chill, and let himself be carried home.

Gotham and Metropolis weren't far apart, so the flight was rather short. Kon flew to Tim's balcony, carrying him inside rather than setting him down in the snow.

"I can walk you know," Tim said.

"I like carrying you," Kon said. He opened the door with his TTK and finally set Tim down inside, but he didn't let him go, keeping his arms around him.

Tim sighed and leaned into the embrace, resting his head on Kon's chest. Kon wrapped his arms around him and swayed them slightly. He leaned down and kissed Tim's forehead, then his cheek, until Tim finally laughed and tilted his head for a proper kiss.

Kissing Kon felt like nothing Tim had ever felt before. There was a sense of  _ rightness  _ that had never been there with anyone else, with any girl Tim had been with before. It was electrifying and intoxicating all at once, and Tim never wanted to stop. He wanted to kiss Kon forever.

They broke apart after a while, both of them grinning. Kon bumped their noses together, making Tim chuckle. "Hi," he said.

"Dork," Tim huffed, pushing back against him. "You should head out before Bruce or Dick realizes you're here."

"Five more minutes," Kon said, ducking his head to kiss Tim again. Tim didn't have the heart to push him away.

Six minutes later, Tim pushed firmly against Kon's chest. "Okay, you really need to go," he said.

Kon grumbled unhappily. "Fine," he said with a resigned sigh. "Text me later?"

"Yes of course," Tim said. "You need to go," he said, leaning up for one last kiss despite his words.

"Okay, bye," Kon said, stealing a couple more kisses. Finally they managed to untangle themselves from one another and Kon headed for the balcony. He flashed Tim one last grin, then took off into the sky.

Tim watched Kon disappear into the blackness of Gotham's winter sky, feeling like he was about to burst. He was so happy he wasn't even sure what to do with himself. It had felt like such a risk to kiss Kon for the first time, like he was plummeting off of the edge of the unknown. Now all he could think about was how amazing it had felt to be wrapped in Kon’s arms. Everything was amazing and Tim never wanted it to end.

_ Everything about this was wrong, but Tim never wanted it to end. He felt more alive than he had in what felt like years. The world around him fell away until all Tim could think of was Kon on top of him, inside of him, fucking him hard and kissing him fiercely. The way he was holding Tim’s knees over his elbows, Tim’s pants still restricting his movements, made it impossible for Tim to do anything but lay there and take what Kon was giving him. Kon had the power to crack planets in half, he could rip Tim to pieces without even trying. The thought of it made Tim whine and gasp, his belly tightening as he approached the edge. He wanted it, wanted Kon to break him, split him in half and take everything. _

A cold wind blew passed and slammed the balcony door against the side of the house hard enough to make it rattle in it's frame. Tim jolted and hurried inside, pulling the door shut and locking it tightly. The wind had blown a small drift of snow into the room in the short amount of time Tim had spent standing on the balcony. Tim frowned and picked up a dirty shirt from the floor to try and mop it up before it melted into the carpet.

* * *

Kon flew home feeling like he'd been to the moon and back. The exhilaration was like nothing he'd experienced before. He wanted to fly around the world and yell into the heavens how happy he was. The only thing keeping him from turning right back around and kissing Tim some more was knowing that Batman would discover him and Tim wouldn't be pleased with him.

Taking the long way home just to work off some of the joyous energy, Kon finally alighted on the balcony of the apartment and let himself inside. The lights were still on, and Lois was sitting up at the dining table, tapping away at her laptop. She looked up when Kon came in and smiled.

"Hey kiddo," she said. "You look happy."

"Why shouldn't I be happy?" Kon asked, brushing snow out of his hair. "It's a great day."

"I can see that," Lois said. She closed her laptop and set it aside, face going serious. "Kon, can you come sit here please?"

Kon raised an eyebrow but obliged, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of Lois. "What's up?" he asked.

"I wanted to talk to you about Tim," Lois said.

Kon immediately tensed. He glanced down the hall, but he was unable to hear Clark anywhere in the apartment.

"I sent Clark to the store," Lois said. "We're out of ice cream."

"Didn't I just get a tub?" Kon asked.

"I wanted raspberry swirl," Lois said. "Should take him at least another hour to find some at this time of night."

Kon nodded, but didn't let himself relax. "I don't know what you think you saw, but me and Tim were just having a nap."

"Kon, I'm a Pulitzer prize winning journalist, please don't treat me like an idiot," Lois said. Her face softened and she smiled. "I can respect you want to keep it quiet Kon, I'm not going to blab about it, I just… I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Kon raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be okay? I feel  _ amazing _ ," he said. "I feel like I could fly to the sun and back I'm so stoked."

Lois chuckled. "I can tell, you spent all of dinner smiling at Tim like he hung the stars and moon," she said. "I just wanted to ask if you two have managed to talk about what happened in Paris yet."

Kon jaw clicked together. "Not… really," he said. "But I mean, it's fine. We just got together today, we've got time to talk about it."

"Of course," Lois said. "You two are young, you've got plenty of time to figure things out. I just don't want to see you get hurt rushing into something without considering the potential consequences."

Kon swallowed, but he gave her a nod. "Yeah," he said, thinking back to earlier, when just the slightest touch against Tim's bare skin had sent him scrambling back like Kon had pinched him. For one second Kon had been so scared that he'd accidentally hurt Tim, that he'd lost control of his strength and injured Tim without meaning to. The feeling had lingered for what felt like an eternity, even when he and Tim had come back together and started kissing again.

Lois's face softened and she reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder. "I don't mean to discourage you, that's not what I want at all. I can see how happy Tim makes you, and I  _ want  _ you to be happy. I just also don't want this to blow back in your faces and hurt you."

Kon nodded. "I know," he said. "It's… we haven't really talked about it much, even when we started talking again. Tim was already having so much trouble with everything else, and Paris seemed to make him so uncomfortable, I didn't want to add to his stress."

Lois hummed. "That's understandable," she said. "I'd suggest bringing it up at some point when you're both comfortable enough to talk about it. This isn't something that can just sit without being discussed."

"Yeah, it's kind of serious," Kon said. "I'll try to bring it up with him."

"Good," Lois said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Don't feel like you have to say anything right away. Give it a week or so, enjoy yourselves for a while. You deserve to feel happy. Just remember that you can talk to me if you need to."

Kon smiled. "I will. Thanks Mom," he said.

Lois smiled and gave his shoulder another squeeze. "Good," she said. She reached up and ruffled his hair. "It's getting long again. Time for a haircut?"

"I was thinking of doing something different for it," Kon said, running his hand through the slightly shaggy mop. "I don't think I'll grow it out, but maybe like, an undercut or something."

"Wasn't that what you had before?" Lois asked.

"That was a fade cut," Kon said. "It's a bit different."

"Ah well, what would I know?" Lois said, reaching for her laptop again. She flipped it open and began working on whatever she'd been doing before. "Did you get your homework done?"

Kon groaned. "Do I have to?" he whined.

"Yes," Lois said. "I know it's boring, but if you get it done, then it's done and you don't need to worry about it anymore."

Kon sighed. "Fine," he huffed, dragging himself up from the table and heading towards his room.

As he reached the hall for the bedrooms, the door opened and Clark stepped inside. "Found the ice cream," he announced. "Had to go to the other side of the city, but I found some."

"Thanks hun, I'll have some in a minute," Lois called from the dining room.

"Alright," Clark said, shuffling out of his boots. He caught Kon's eye and gave him a smile. "Tim get home okay?"

"Yeah, I dropped him off at the Manor," Kon said.

"Good," Clark said, turning to hang up his coat. "And he wasn't feeling dizzy anymore?"

Kon stared at Clark's back for a moment. Clark obviously knew Kon was lying, he'd probably heard him and Tim kissing when he came into the apartment, as he often listened to see where everyone was in the apartment as he entered. Yet he was playing along with Kon, letting him tell him when he was ready. Kon appreciated the gesture.

"Yeah, he's fine," Kon said. "The nap really helped."

"Good," Clark said. "I'm glad he's feeling better. He's really lucky to have a friend like you."

Kon smiled. "I think I'm the one who's lucky," he said.

Clark chuckled. "You're both lucky," he said. "Now go do your homework."

"Ugh," Kon scoffed, turning to stomp the rest of the way to his bedroom.

Kon spent the rest of the night slogging through his biology and math homework, tempted to just throw his whole desk out the window in protest. He understood that education was important, and he needed to graduate high school if he ever wanted to go further in his education, but why did it have to be so  _ boring _ ? Kon would much rather be punching bad guys than trying to find the value of x. Why couldn't x find itself for once? And what if he didn't  _ want  _ to show his work?

Eventually Kon managed to get all of his homework done, though by the time it was finished it was probably too late to go out and find any crime to punch. He could probably find something if he listened for it, but he avoided doing too much work in Metropolis, not wanting to step on Clark's toes. Instead he decided to stay in and play some video games. If something big enough happened, he'd either hear it or someone would text him.

By now, Tim was probably patrolling as Red Robin. Gotham had no shortage of criminals and colourful crime to fight, even on cold nights. Kon had always enjoyed watching Tim work, even back in their YJ days. He was so smart, coming up with complicated plans on the fly, improvising as needed. The way Tim moved was so graceful and deliberate, every move calculated with razor sharp precision. Tim was amazing, something Kon had known since they'd met, but had truly come to appreciate the more he got to know him.

Kon was stretched out on his bed, tapping away at his Switch and trying not to think about how he'd been snuggled up and kissing with Tim on the same bed just hours ago. If he rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow Tim had been resting on, Kon could smell the lingering scent of Tim's shampoo.

Unbidden, Kon recalled Paris, finding Tim in the catacombs and following him to the hidden lab. He remembered kissing Tim, the way it felt like lightning coursing through his body, laying him down against the dirty platform and pushing his uniform pants down. The memory of Tim's sinewy body against his made Kon squeeze his thighs together and try desperately to think of something that  _ wasn't  _ Tim.

No such luck. Kon's erection begged for attention, straining in the confines of his jeans and pressing painfully against the zipper. Swearing, Kon tried to get it to go down, tried to think of things like Perry White naked, or the worst crime scene he'd ever scene, but people being naked and crime scenes brought his train of thought back around to Tim, which set the whole thing in motion again. The more he tried to not think about it, the more he was reminded of it.

Kon looked over at the pillow Tim had rested on. They were together now—as ill-defined as being 'together' meant—which sort of gave him a free pass, didn't it? He'd jerked off to Cassie hundreds of times while they were dating, possibly thousands of times, even before he and Cassie were having sex. It wasn't exactly the same with Tim, but he didn't think Tim would be  _ mad  _ at him for it.

After another moment's internal debate, Kon groaned and rolled over, burying his face into the pillow and inhaling deeply. Tim's mild shampoo and subtle cologne leapt up at him, and underneath that (and the smell of laundry), Kon could detect the scent that was uniquely Tim. Kon shivered, a flood of memories washing over him; the sound of Tim's moans as he begged Kon for more, the sight of him laid out and writhing under Kon, the feeling of his tight, silky body wrapped around Kon's cock.

Gritting his teeth, Kon reached down to grind the heel of his palm against his aching cock through his jeans. What would Tim be like, if they ever slept together again? Would it be the same as last time, Tim begging for more, for harder and faster (Kon resolutely shoved away the memories of his dreams, hurting Tim with his big, brutish body and strength)? Or would it be sweeter next time? Soft and caring and all the things Kon wanted to do for Tim. He wanted to pleasure Tim, worship his body until he was a shivering mess.

Unable to hold back anymore, Kon reached for his zipper and took himself in hand. His cock was already rock hard and leaking precum. Gripping himself tightly, Kon stifled his moans into the pillow, surrounding himself in Tim’s scent as he stroked himself quickly, knowing he wasn’t going to last long.

Kon imagined Tim in the bed with him, completely naked, pressed against him as they kissed. Tim’s skin would be cool under his touch, warming as Kon roved his hands over everything he could reach, memorizing each scar. Kon imagined holding Tim close as he slid his cock into him, gently rocking into his body as he kissed him fiercely. He remembered how Tim had sighed and moaned, how much it had driven Kon insane. The sweet, tight heat of his body wrapped around his cock would be too much and not enough at the same time. This time, Kon would hold him close as they fucked, feeling his whole body as they came together in pleasure and love.

Kon squeezed his eyes shut and jerked himself harder, rocking his hips into his own hand. He wanted to hear Tim’s cries as he came, feel his body jerk and tense with pleasure, his head tossed back and exposing the beautiful line of his throat for Kon to kiss.

A long moan tore itself out of Kon’s throat as his orgasm rocked through his body. He jerked himself through it, the memory of Tim’s sweet cries echoing in his head. He spilled over his hand, onto the sheets that still smelled faintly of Tim. Face still buried in the pillow, all he could think of was how much he wanted Tim to be there with him.

Kon rolled back over, gasping for air, body trembling from the aftershocks. Slowly his brain started to come back online, and with it a twinge of guilt. He probably shouldn't have done that, even though he was reasonably sure it was fine. He didn't think Tim would be upset with him for jerking off to him, but it was probably a little weird.

With a sigh, Kon rolled out of bed and searched around for something to clean up with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these dorks so much but they still have a lot of Shit™ they need to get together.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to my boo Ari for helping me with the direction of this chapter. I was a little stuck on where to go from last chapter, but now I'm pretty sure I know what I'm doing.
> 
> trigger warnings for panic attacks I guess, as well as accidentally hurting a loved one sort of

For three weeks, things were absolutely perfect.

Now that he and Kon were together, it seemed like everything was falling into place. They talked every day, either by phone call or text, and met as often as they could. Every Friday after Tim's psychiatry appointment they went out on a date, which mostly consisted of lunch and then finding somewhere secluded to make out for a while. Sometimes they went to movies, though they often just ended up making out in the back of the theatre.

Tim couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this happy. He'd spent so long being so scared of being gay, he'd never really had time to think of how amazing it would feel to finally be with someone he was actually attracted to. When he was with Kon, just the two of them, all of his anxieties melted away and all he could think of was how _happy_ he was to be kissing Kon and for Kon to kiss him back. Kissing Kon felt like it had completely changed his outlook on life, even more than the antidepressants had.

The only sticking point was that they couldn't seem to go farther than kissing.

Whenever they made out, Tim could only go so far before his anxiety spiked so hard he got to the verge of a meltdown. Any sort of touch to his bare skin that wasn't his face or hands would make him freeze. For a moment he would be back in Paris, writhing under Kon and begging for more. The oily mix of emotions, pleasure, shame, guilt, confusion, would wash over him and he would jolt, physically unable to handle it.

Tim had figured that it would eventually sort itself out, that he'd just get used to being touched and be able to at least handle Kon's hands on his skin, but after three weeks he still jumped like he'd been electrocuted. Kon would jump back, thinking he'd hurt Tim somehow, even if he'd barely grazed him, and it would take ages for them to get comfortable with each other again.

Other than that however, things were amazing. They still hadn't told anyone, happy to just enjoy one another, a pleasant little secret just for the two of them. Tim was honestly happy; for what felt like the first time in years he could confidently say he felt good about his life. People were starting to noticed that he was in a better mood, even his psychiatrist had made a note of it. There was a bit of colour back in his cheeks again, and he was sleeping better than he had in weeks. Despite the problems he had letting Kon touch his bare skin, he couldn't find it in himself to regret entering into a relationship with Kon.

Currently, Tim was on patrol as Red Robin. Owing to Tim doing so much better lately, Batman had let him go back to being mostly solo, so long as he checked in on every hour. There were no large cases at the moment, nothing that needed his immediate attention, so Red Robin was more or less free to swing around the city aimlessly, sniffing out trouble on his own.

It was a rare clear night, the moon full and bright over the city. A recent snowfall had turned the city white, creating a kind of blanket of calm. Almost everyone was holed up against the cold, and only the very determined criminals braved this kind of weather. It was quiet enough that Red Robin was considering taking an early night, knowing that Batman would probably stay out all night to cover anything that went wrong.

A cool breeze rushed passed and there was suddenly a warm presence at Red Robin's back. Tim was grinning even as hands came up to cover his eyes. "Guess who?" a voice whispered in his ear.

"You know, if I didn't already know it was you, that would be a good way to get your ass kicked," Tim said.

"I'm invulnerable," Kon said.

"You think I couldn't put you on your ass?" Tim asked, turning in Kon's arms to face him.

Kon settled his arms on Tim's shoulders, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Eh, you probably have some kind of weird bat-jutsu thing that could knock me out," he said with a shrug. He grinned and tugged Tim closer. "But you wouldn't."

Tim chuckled and stretched up for a quick kiss. "What are you even doing here anyway? You know how Batman gets about metas in the city."

"I was flying back from a thing in Texas, decided to make a detour and see what you were up to," Kon said. He ducked down for another kiss. "Was hoping to steal a kiss or two or five."

Tim snorted. "You're going to get me in trouble," he said, but he made no move to push Kon away. He brought his arms up to wrap them around Kon's broad torso, hands feeling the strong muscles of his back.

"Not if we don't get caught," Kon said with a cheeky grin. "Got five minutes?"

Tim matched his grin. "I have to check in with Batman on the hour, so we have ten minutes."

Giggling like children, they quickly made their way across the rooftops to a secluded spot where no one could see them. As soon as they were alone, Kon pulled Tim close and kissed him fiercely.

"I missed you," he hummed, squeezing his arms around Tim.

"We talked earlier," Tim said, chuckling into the kiss.

"Yeah, on the phone," Kon grumbled. "I wanted to see you."

"We saw each other yesterday," Tim pointed out between kisses.

"But that was _yesterday_ ," Kon whined.

Tim laughed and kissed Kon again, chest feeling warm despite the snow around them. Kon wrapped his arms around Tim, holding him so close they were chest to chest. Tim wound his arms around Kon's neck, one gloved hand tangling in his hair. Kon hummed and pressed forward, one hand travelling down to the small of Tim's back to press their hips closer. Tim shivered at the contact, sighing slightly into the kiss. Kon growled and ground his hips forward, thigh starting to push between Tim's legs.

_Tim scrambled at his utility belt for the packet of medical grade lube he kept there as Kon pulled off his shirt. He pulled it out and started to shuffle his pants down just far enough to expose everything. Pulling off one glove with his teeth, Tim coated his fingers and reached down, plunging two fingers into himself immediately despite the painful stretch._

Tim shoved Kon's chest, hard enough to push himself backwards. He tripped over something on the ground, a broken pipe or something, spending himself sprawling across the ground. Kon jolted back when Tim pushed him, leaping back so fast he slammed into the wall behind him, leaving a sizable crack in the brick.

They stood there for a moment, both of them breathing heavily and staring wide eyed at each other. Tim bit his lip, mind racing for something to say. His whole body trembled from the mix of anxiety, cold, and excitement coursing through him.

The sound of someone landing on the roof made Tim jolt. He looked up to see two figures approaching them. He scrambled up to his feet and drew his staff, ready to fight whoever was coming towards them.

Red Hood and Arsenal stepped into the light, pausing when they saw Red Robin's fighting stance. "Hey Red," Red Hood said, sounding confused through the helmet. "What'cha up to?

"Nothing," Red Robin said, forcing himself out of his defensive stance. He couldn't seem to quell his anxiety.

Red Hood tilted his head, and Red Robin was suddenly aware of Kon behind him, looking disheveled and spooked. "We weren't doing anything," he said quickly.

"Right," Red Hood said, clearly not believing Tim in the slightest. Arsenal flashed a knowing grin.

Tim felt his stomach drop. "We weren't doing anything!" he insisted.

There was a sudden presence behind Tim, and an unexpected touch to his shoulder. Before Tim could process the touch as non threatening, he was swinging his staff around. The metal bounced off of Kon's cheekbone with a clang, the sound echoing over the rooftop. Kon stared down at him in shock and confusion and hurt. Tim felt his heart twist.

"Shit," he swore, dropping his staff. "Kon, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Kon said softly. "It's okay, you didn't hurt me."

Tim could hardly hear Kon over the rushing in his ears. He'd just taken a swing at Kon; if Kon wasn't invulnerable, he could have really hurt him. Despite Kon's soft tone and relaxed body language, trying to calm Tim down, his eyes swam with hurt. Tim wished the ground would swallow him whole.

Something red entered Tim's field of vision. "Hey kid," Arsenal said, smiling kindly, "why don't we come over here and sit for a minute, okay?"

Tim didn't know what to do. He wanted to fix what he'd done, but his mind was racing so fast he couldn't he think of what to do. Arsenal smiled and laid a light hand on Red Robin's arm, slow enough that Tim could see what he was doing.

"It's okay kiddo, let just come over here and calm down for a sec, okay?" Arsenal said, gently leading Tim away to a different part of the roof. "We'll all just take a few minutes to breathe and then come back and say sorry, okay?"

"Okay," Tim said, voice small.

Tim let himself be led to a small rooftop garden shed. Arsenal grabbed a large four gallon bucket and overturned it for Tim to sit on. He grabbed a second one for himself and sat next to Tim, taking off his red mask.

"Hey, deep breaths okay?" Roy said, laying a hand on Tim's shoulder. "You're going to be okay."

Tim dropped his head into his hands. "I hit him in the face with my staff," he said through gritted teeth.

"It was an accident, it happens," Roy said.

"I could have really hurt him," Tim said. "If he was anyone else—"

"It's okay," Roy said. "No one got hurt this time, it's okay. Just take deep breaths kiddo."

Tim let out a pitchy whine, digging his fingers into his cowl like he wanted to tear his hair out. Roy kept quiet, keeping his hand on Tim's shoulder to keep him grounded. After a few minutes and a couple false starts, Tim started to even out his breathing, slowly getting his heart to stop pounding. Eventually he sagged over his knees, letting out a long sigh.

"Better now?" Roy asked, patting Tim's shoulder.

"Yeah," Tim said, voice rough. "I just… freaked out."

"Yeah, that can happen," Roy said. "Want to talk about it?"

Tim sighed. "I don't know," he said. "It's… it's complicated."

Roy hummed. "It always is," he said giving Tim's shoulder a squeeze.

Tim looked up at him. He'd known Roy for a long time, since he'd started his career as Robin. He'd always known him as Dick's friend, someone too old to be a peer, but was nice enough to him anyway. It had been a while since they'd seen each other, but he still seemed like the same kind person Tim remembered. Roy smiled at him and gave his shoulder another squeeze.

"Can I ask you a question?" Tim asked.

"Shoot," Roy said.

"Did you… was Jason your…" Tim tried to get the words out, but he couldn't quite get them together in a way that made sense in his head.

"Was Jason the first guy I was ever with?" Roy asked with a raised eyebrow and an understanding smile.

Tim nodded, flushing slightly. "Sorry, I guess that's personal," he said.

"It's fine," Roy said. "And yeah, he was. I'd never been with a guy before. I actually never even realized that I liked guys before Jason."

"Was it weird?" Tim asked. "To… adjust to?"

"Oh yeah, big time," Roy said. "I was originally with Kori, but I realized that she and Jason were also sort of together in a way. She liked us both equally, and I didn't want to get between them, so we became an open triangle relationship."

"Open triangle?" Tim asked.

"When one person is with two people, but the other two people aren't together," Roy explained. "So I was with Kori, but we were all friends anyway, so Jay and I spent a lot of time together as well. I started to realize that I actually kind of liked Jason as well as Kori."

"What did you do?" Tim asked.

"Initially? Ignored the crap out of it," Roy said. "I shoved it down, wouldn't even acknowledge it. Jason was my friend, and I'd never been attracted to guys before, so there must be some other reason for what I was feeling."

"How did you figure it out?" Tim asked.

"I didn't, kinda," Roy said. "I was so hard in denial I don't think I ever would have realized. It was Kori who mentioned that it was okay if I liked Jason as well. I denied it at first, but she got me thinking about it and I eventually realized that I _was_ interested in Jason, I just hadn't realized because I didn't know what attraction to guys felt like."

"And so, what? You got together?" Tim asked.

Roy shook his head. "Nope, more denial," he said. "It took me a long while to be okay with being with a guy. I probably never would have been, if Jason wasn't so patient with me."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Jason has patience?"

Roy laughed. "I know, it doesn't seem like it, but when he cares about someone," his eyes went soft and far away, "when he _really_ cares about you, he can be the most patient, gentle person in the world."

Tim flushed, suddenly feeling like he was intruding into intimate territory, but unable to stop himself from asking. "So… how did you finally… get together?"

"It took some work, but eventually I got over myself," Roy said. "It wasn't really the same as being with a woman, and it took me a while to realize that it was _okay_ that it wasn't the same. The physical intimacy was weird at first, but once I got over that, it was pretty easy."

"It doesn't bother you?" Tim asked.

Roy raised an eyebrow at Tim. "Does it bother _you_?" he asked.

Tim swallowed, remembering the feelings that rushed through him when Kon touched him in any kind of sexual way. The rush of guilt and shame that accompanied the touch. It wasn't as though he didn't _want_ Kon to touch him, he loved being close with Kon, kissing him and cuddling with him, but it was as if his brain shut down whenever it seemed like things were going further than that, and all he could do was panic.

"I… I just get scared," Tim said softly. "It's one thing to _say_ that I'm gay, to acknowledge that, but…"

"Actually _being_ with someone makes it more real, and therefore more scary?" Roy finished for him.

Tim nodded, crossing his arms across his stomach. "I spent so long being ashamed of it, _hating_ myself because of it, it's hard to just switch that off."

Roy nodded. "I can empathize," he said, "and I know it's 'proper' to say that you'll be fine and there's no reason to be scared, but honestly? Those are the kind of bullshit platitudes that get on my nerves. It's _okay_ that you're scared, it _is_ scary. But the best thing you can do is to stop running away when you get scared, and instead acknowledge that you're scared and try to get through it with the people you care about. If someone has to hold your hand and encourage you the whole time, that's fine. If you need someone to shove you into the deep end, that's fine. No matter what you need to get through it, it's _okay_."

Tim let out a breath. "It's okay," he repeated.

Roy smiled and patted him on the back again. "It's okay," he said. He gave Tim's shoulder one last squeeze before standing up. "Ready?"

"No," Tim said, even as he stood up and dusted himself off. Roy gave him an encouraging smile, which he tried to return. Taking a deep breath, he walked back over to where Kon and Jason were standing.

"No, I _get_ what you're saying," Kon said to Jason, "it's just that I'm immune to bullets, so it's not very effective."

Jason scoffed. "The _point_ is that you should watch yourself. I know like three people who could get me enough kryptonite to make your life very unpleasant."

Kon didn't look impressed. "I'm sure this threatening tough guy shovel talk is very effective on most people, but I can literally crush you like a pop can. You're not as scary as you think you are."

Red Hood bristled, but whatever he was about to say was cut off as Tim and Roy approached. Kon abandoned Jason to come stand in front of Tim, concern etched into his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching up to cup Tim's jaw, but stopping at the last moment, aware of Roy and Jason watching them.

Tim reached his hand up to take Kon's pressing it against his cheek. "I'm okay," he said. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," Kon said, stroking his thumb across the ridge where Tim's cowl ended. "I startled you, so that part's on me."

Tim closed his eyes and leaned into Kon's hand. "We should talk," he said, voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah," Kon agreed. He glanced back at where Jason and Roy were standing. "Later?"

Tim nodded. "I'll text you," he promised.

"Okay," Kon said.

He made a move to lean forward, but then stepped back. Tim caught his shirt and pulled him down, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Kon raised an eyebrow in surprise, glancing at Jason and Roy, who were still close enough to see. Tim dropped his head to Kon's chest, fist clenching in his shirt for a moment. Kon wrapped his arms around him to give him a quick hug before Tim stepped back.

"I'll text you when patrol is over," Tim said.

"I'll wait up," Kon promised, starting to fly up. He hesitated for a moment, then took off into the sky.

Tim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to fight off the tension headache that was forming. A presence at his side made him turn. Jason stood next to him, staring off into the sky where Kon had disappeared. Roy was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did Roy go?" Tim asked.

"Had to split, babysitter's time is up soon," Jason explained.

"Were you trying to give Kon a shovel talk?" Tim asked.

"No," Jason huffed, pulling out a cigarette. "You been taking your meds?"

"Yeah," Tim sighed.

"How were the side effects?" Jason asked, flicking his lighter a few times to light his cigarette.

"Awful," Tim groaned. "I got really nauseous and lost a ton of weight. I'm just barely getting back up to what I was before."

Jason sorted. "Not like you aren't already a skinny little twig anyway," he said. "Yeah, the side effects can be pretty rough."

"What side effects did you get?" Tim asked.

"Broke out like crazy," Jason grumbled. "All over my face and back. It was nasty."

"Gross," Tim chuckled.

"Plus it messed up my sleep schedule pretty bad," Jason said. "Started sleeping like ten hours a night."

"Oof," Tim said. "Not great for a nocturnal vigilante."

Jason grumbled. "Well, it finally evened out," he said. "Skin cleared up and I'm sleeping better now."

"So it was worth it in the end?" Tim asked.

"So far," Jason said, blowing smoke into the cold night air.

They lapsed into silence, staring up into the night sky. Tim knew he needed to get back to patrol soon, and Jason probably had things to do as well, but they stood there for a moment, not quite enjoying one another's company, but taking comfort in one another all the same. Tim took a few deep breaths, trying to let the last of the anxiety float out of him and dissipate into the air.

The sound of someone landing on the roof broke the silence. Tim turned, cursing himself for letting someone get the drop on him twice, only to see Nightwing crouched on the railing of the roof where he'd landed.

"Red Robin?" Nightwing asked, whole body tense as he kept his eyes fixed on Red Hood.

"Nightwing," Red Robin answered, "what are you doing here?"

"You didn't check in," Nightwing explained, slowly lowering himself onto the rooftop proper. "We got worried, so I came to your last pinged location to see if you were in danger."

Red Robin sighed internally. "I'm fine, I just got caught up with something," he said.

"Right," Nightwing said, glancing at Red Hood again.

Red Hood puffed on the last of his cigarette and tossed the finished butt on the ground, crushing it with his heel. "If we're done here, I'll be off," he said, putting on his helmet and crossing to the other side of the roof. "Stay out of trouble you little shit," he said to Tim.

"Look who's talking, asshole," Tim scoffed.

Dick stepped forward. "Jason wait."

Jason ignored him, firing his grapple and swinging off. Dick moved forward as though to give chase, but Tim held out a hand to stop him. "You'll only scare him off," he said. "We've got to let him come back on his own."

Dick looked indecisive for another moment, then sighed. "Why didn't you check in?" he asked, turning to face Tim.

"I got caught up with something," Tim said. "I'm fine."

Dick didn't look placated. "Tim, we were really worried something happened to you," he said.

Tim sighed. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry."

"The only reason we agreed to let you patrol on your own was because you agreed to check in Tim," Dick said, putting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how _worried_ we were? We thought something might have happened to you. We thought you might have—"

"I obviously haven't killed myself, okay?" Tim snapped. "I'm sorry I didn't check in and worried you, but I was dealing with something and lost track of the time. So can you please stop with the lecture?"

Dick jolted like Tim had slapped him. For a moment he looked like he was going to try and argue some more, but then he gave in with a sigh. "Alright, okay," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I guess I got a little freaked out when I saw you with Jason."

"Jason won't do anything to me," Tim said. "He likes me."

"He tried to kill you," Dick pointed out.

"So did Damian, and you made him Robin," Tim shot back.

Dick sighed. "I'm never going to stop being punished for that, am I?"

"Nope," Tim said. He flashed a tired smile. "I'm fine Dick, I'm sorry I worried you."

Dick returned the smile. "Apology accepted. I'm sorry I freaked out at you."

"Apology also accepted," Tim said. "We should probably get back to our patrol."

"Mind if I join you?" Dick asked. "It would assuage my anxiety."

"Did your therapist teach you that phrase? That sounds like a therapist phrase," Tim said, heading for the railing to fire a grapple.

Dick sighed, following Tim. "I apparently have deeply rooted anxieties over losing the people I love in tragic and violent ways."

"Go figure," Tim said. He waited for Nightwing to fire his own grapple and followed him into the air.

Red Robin finished his patrol with Nightwing, making sure to check in with the others exactly on the hour for the rest of the night. It was actually rather nice to hang out with Nightwing on patrol, it felt somewhat reminiscent of the days when Tim was Robin, trying desperately to keep up with his heroes. Nowadays he had people trying desperately to keep up with _him_. It was nice to be reminded of simpler days. When he was finished, he decided against returning to the manor and instead went to the Nest.

Tim had been back to the Nest a handful of times since first going back to the Manor, mostly to tidy up and keep things clean. He hadn't really felt the need to come back in a while, not with so much going back at the Manor. Tonight however, Tim figured he'd need the extra privacy to speak with Kon.

After sending a quick text to Kon to let him know where he could meet him, Tim set about trying to tidy up. There wasn't much that needed to be cleaned aside from a bit of dust build up, and all of Tim's files at the Cave were already backed up into his computer as well. There wasn't much food in the fridge, but Tim wasn't particularly hungry anyway, and if Kon got hungry they could order in. There wasn't much for Tim to do but sit in his living room and wait.

It didn't take long for Kon to find him. A tap at the window alerted Tim to Kon's arrival. He quickly opened it and let Kon inside.

"Hey," Kon said, taking off his boots before setting down on the floor. "How was patrol?"

"It was fine. Nightwing showed up and I spent the night hanging out with him," Tim said, closing the window tightly. He could quite meet Kon's eyes.

"How did he react to Red Hood hanging around?" Kon asked.

"Jason booked it as soon as Dick showed up," Tim explained, shrugging a shoulder, "so it was just us two."

"That must have been nice, you've been meaning to hang out with him more," Kon said.

"It was fun actually," Tim said. "It was a bit nostalgic. We even trainsurfed for a bit."

"That's good, I'm glad you had fun," Kon said.

The tension was thick enough to cut. Tim had the sudden urge to shove the whole thing aside, forget it ever happened. He shoved that urge down, knowing it would only make it worse in the long run. He and Kon needed to talk about it.

"Tim," Kon said, apparently reading Tim's mind, "we need to talk about Paris."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know that much about Roy outside of RHO and a few other places where he pops up, so he's basically a mix of those and other fanfics. If anyone has some good recommendations for him, I wouldn't turn up my nose.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up going way off the rails for what I planned for, but I couldn't think of a way to get them to do what I wanted without making it either super long or taking a hard left somewhere. In any case, as much as these two jerks frustrated the hell out of me not doing what I wanted them to, I do think this chapter came out nice. The stuff I planned can be moved around and put in a different spot.
> 
> Triggers for talks about sexual assault, kinks, masturbation, and cheating, as well as probably improper use of exposure therapy.

For a moment, there was silence as they both absorbed what was said. Tim finally looked up at Kon, whose face was pinched up with concern. There was no getting out of this now.

Tim took a deep breath. "Yeah, we really do."

Kon let out a breath, like he'd been waiting for Tim to stall or try to change the subject. "Okay," he said. He started to pace around a little. "So Paris…  _ happened _ ."

"It certainly did," Tim agreed, biting his lip. "It probably shouldn't have."

" _ Probably _ ," Kon repeated. "I  _ cheated  _ on Cassie."

"I'm sorry," Tim said. "I… I don't know what came over me."

Kon groaned. "This isn't just on you Tim, I could have said no," he said. "I knew you weren't well, that you probably weren't in the right state of mind to consent properly, but I did it anyway." He looked up at Tim. "I'm just as much at fault for what happened as you are, so no beating yourself up for that, okay?"

Tim sighed and went to flop down on the couch. "Okay, so it's on both of us," he said, "but that doesn't make what happened okay."

"No," Kon said, sitting next to Tim on the couch, "it doesn't."

Silence hung around them for a moment, uncomfortable and cold. Tim sighed again. "Do you think it's worth it to try and figure out  _ why  _ it even happened?"

Kon shrugged. "Maybe? I mean, I figured it was just unconscious. I didn't realize how much I was in love with you, and it all just…  _ bubbled over  _ in Paris."

"In  _ love  _ with me?" Tim asked, chest pounding a little.

Kon's cheeks flushed. "Uh, I mean, yeah?" he said squirming a little. "I mean, I know it's like, too early to be saying that stuff, but I… do."

"Oh," Tim said, feeling his face flush.

Kon groaned and put his face in his hands. "This is  _ not  _ how I wanted to tell you that."

"It's fine," Tim said. "I mean… I do too."

Kon looked up, eyes wide. "You do?" he asked.

Tim nodded, suddenly feeling something oily and sick in his stomach. "I realized it after you… died."

Kon sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh," he said.

Tim brought his knees up to his chest. "I realized it, but it… it  _ terrified  _ me, for a lot of reasons," he explained. "I mean, not only was I gay, something my parents  _ never _ would have agreed with, but I also… I also had just  _ lost  _ you. Not only had I lost  _ another  _ person, but also the person I was in love with? It just… it hurt  _ so much _ ."

Tim shivered, remembering the deep dark pit he'd started spiraling into just after Kon had died. He'd kept himself afloat for a while, throwing himself into his work as Robin, as well as navigating his new parental relationship with Bruce. He'd managed to ignore it for the most part, even as he tried desperately to re-clone Kon back to life. It wasn't until Bruce had died that it had all started to really come crashing down around him.

A warm hand landed on Tim's back, rubbing gently. Kon looked down at Tim with a deep sorrow in his eyes. He slid his arm around Tim's shoulders and pulled him close to his side. He nuzzled his nose into Tim's hair, inhaling deeply.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's not your fault," Tim said.

The quiet returned, but this time it felt a little more friendly, less hostile and tense. Tim closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the feeling of Kon's arm around him, his warm, solid,  _ alive  _ body next to him. It felt so good to just know Kon was there.

"In Paris, when I saw you again… it was like everything hit me at once," Tim said. "I was so happy that you were alive, but so scared that I would have to face that I was gay at the same time. With everything else going on at the same time, my head was so messed up," he said, dropping his head onto his knees. "I just… I just wanted to  _ feel  _ something."

Tim could feel Kon tense momentarily. "Tim… when you called me over that day, when you told me you were gay and showed me your scars…"

There was a question there, Tim could sense. "Yes?" he prompted.

Kon fidgeted slightly. "You said… you said you  _ liked  _ that I hurt you."

Tim took a deep breath. "Yeah, I did."

Kon shivered. "Tim… I can't… I can't  _ do  _ that."

"Do what?" Tim asked.

"Hurt you," Kon said. "Even if you like it and…  _ want  _ me to hurt you. I can't… I  _ never  _ want to hurt you, even just a little bit."

Kon was practically shaking where he sat. Tim looked up at him, and he could see the terror in Kon's eyes. Slowly, he reached up with one hand and cradled Kon's cheek, running his thumb over his cheekbone.

Kon closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, the furrow in his brow remaining. "I know there's like,  _ safe  _ ways to hurt your partner during sex, but I don't like that. I don't like the idea of hurting you. When I learned that I  _ had _ … I could hardly touch  _ anything _ , I was so scared I'd hurt someone badly with my strength. It took me  _ weeks  _ to be comfortable touching anyone, to trust that I wouldn't break their arms or crush their ribs. I… I'm so  _ strong  _ Tim, I could  _ really _ hurt you if I'm not careful."

"Kon," Tim breathed. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you felt that way."

Kon let out a long sigh and nuzzled into Tim's hand, pressing his lips to Tim's palm. "I don't want to hurt you Tim,  _ ever _ . If… if that's something you like, then maybe we can work something out. I've done some reading, and apparently there are these places called  _ dungeons _ —"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Tim said, feeling bad for wanting to laugh, even just a little. "Kon, I don't get off on being hurt."

"You don't?" Kon asked, opening his eyes.

Tim shook his head. "No, it's not… it wasn't like, a  _ fetish  _ or anything. It was more like… it was kind of like the cutting."

Kon raised an eyebrow, confused. "Like the cutting?"

Tim nodded, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. "When I cut… it was to  _ punish  _ myself for being gay. My therapist phrased it as 'an externalization of my internal pain.' When you hurt me—when I said that I  _ liked  _ it when you hurt me, it wasn't because I got off on being hurt, it was because I  _ hated  _ myself for what I was doing. Having sex with you felt  _ amazing _ , and I hated that it felt that way, so I wanted it to hurt, I wanted to be punished for enjoying it."

Kon swallowed thickly. "Oh," he said. "I think I understand." He squeezed Tim's shoulder. "So you  _ don't  _ want me to hurt you when we get intimate?"

"No," Tim said, shaking his head. "I mean, I guess I liked it a  _ little  _ bit, but not enough to ask you to ever do it again, especially if it made you so upset."

Kon closed his eyes and let out a breath. "Okay, good," he said, dropping his head so their foreheads touched. "I really don't want to hurt you Tim. I get so scared whenever you freeze up when we make out, I always think I hurt you or something."

Tim thought of how Kon reacted whenever Tim pushed him away, how hard he jolted back, apologizing and asking if he'd done something wrong. He wrapped his hand around the back of Kon's neck and nuzzled into him. "If you ever hurt me, I will tell you, okay? I won't ever lie to you about that."

Kon shivered. "Thank you," he said.

They sat together for a while, curled up close, Tim tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of Kon's neck and Kon running his thumb over Tim's shoulder. Outside the sky was just starting to lighten, signaling the safe arrival of the new day. Tim took deep breaths, knowing that there was still more to say, but not sure how to start saying it.

"I keep getting scared whenever we start getting… intimate with each other," Tim said, voice barely more than a whisper.

"I noticed," Kon said, squeezing Tim's shoulder. "Tell me?"

Tim took a deep breath. "I just… every time it seems like we might go further than kissing, it's like I'm right back in Paris, feeling all those awful feelings. It's like someone put a cattle prod against my spine and I can't physically handle it. I've been trying to get over what happened, move past it, but I can't handle what I did. I just… I wish I could forget it ever happened."

Kon was silent for a few minutes. "Maybe that's the issue?" he suggested.

"What is?" Tim asked.

"You're trying to forget what happened instead of acknowledging it," Kon said. "Maybe to move past it, you need to accept it?"

Tim looked up at Kon. "That's… possible," he said, mulling it over in his head. "I just… I've been so scared to face it."

"You don't have to face it alone," Kon said, squeezing Tim's shoulder. "I'm right here with you Tim."

Tim nodded, leaning his head down to lay his head in the crook of Kon's neck and shoulder, letting out a long sigh. "I… it's not that I don't  _ want  _ to be intimate with you, I do. It's just… it's  _ scary _ . When I used to cut myself, it was often after I'd um, masturbated… to you."

Kon flushed. "Oh," he said.

Tim could feel his face going red. "Yeah…  _ anyway _ , I think the association kind of mixed my brain up, and now I'm all screwed up on whether or not I'm supposed to feel  _ good  _ when we're intimate, and I get all confused and guilty."

"I see," Kon said. "Well uh, you know you don't have to feel guilty. I don't mind that you erm,  _ masturbated  _ to me."

Tim let out a hysterical giggle. He couldn't help it, the situation was too absurd. Here they were talking about the one time they'd fucked in a dirty underground lab and they could barely even  _ say  _ the word 'masturbate' to one another. Kon apparently found the situation just as funny, and soon they were both laughing hard, clinging to one another and tears gathering at the corners of their eyes. Tim sagged against Kon, hiccupping through the last of his laughter. Kon wrapped his arms fully around him, nuzzling into him. They held each other tightly, both trembling as the weird mix of emotions made their way through their bodies.

Kon let out a long sigh. "You don't have to be guilty," he reiterated. "I jerk off to you too."

"Really?" Tim asked, voice soft.

Kon nodded. "The first day we got together, I smelled the pillow you had your head on and jerked off," he said, blushing even through his shy grin.

Tim flushed. "That strangely does make me feel better."

"Yeah?" Kon asked, smiling a little wider. "I felt a little weird about it."

"Don't feel weird, I don't mind," Tim said. "I feel a little flattered actually."

Kon chuckled. "I'm glad you don't think it's weird," he said. His face went a little serious again. "Tim… I feel really bad, about Paris."

Tim swallowed thickly, but he could tell that Kon wasn't finished and kept quiet. Kon pulled Tim close, closing his eyes. "It's not just that we shouldn't have done that, or that I hurt you… I can't help but feel like I took advantage of you."

"Took advantage?" Tim asked. "I  _ asked  _ you to sleep with me. I was practically begging."

"Sure, but I should have said no," Kon said. "I could tell you weren't really present enough to consent one hundred percent, and I still went ahead anyway." He dropped his head to Tim's shoulder, starting to tremble. "I just… I just feel awful about it. I know how it feels to be taken advantage of like that."

Tim clenched his hands in Kon's shirt, suddenly remembering Tana and Knockout. Kon had never mentioned ever having sex with either of them, but they had both been older women pursuing Kon when he was maybe fifteen or sixteen at best. Even the first time Tim and Kon had met, Poison Ivy had taken control of Kon's mind. Tim remembered the way she'd draped herself over him and kissed him. He'd never met Knockout, but there had been more than one interview with Kon while she was there, making less-than-subtle and sexually aggressive comments about Kon. It had made Tim vaguely uncomfortable just to  _ watch _ , he couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Kon.

"I'm so sorry Kon," Tim said. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like that."

Kon took a deep breath. "I know it's not the same," he said softly. "I just… I think about the way she—the way Knockout made me feel. At the time I didn't know any better, I thought it was  _ supposed  _ to feel like that."

Tim squeezed Kon tightly. "You didn't make me feel bad Kon. Not like that. I  _ wanted  _ you, the bad parts are all just in my own head."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't have said no," Kon said. "I knew—I  _ thought  _ I knew better. I never wanted to make anyone else feel the way I felt."

Tim pushed down the urge to see where Knockout had ended up (he heard that she sometimes did work for the Suicide Squad) and make sure she never crawled out of that hole ever again. "If it makes you feel any better," he said, "I don't feel like you took advantage of me."

Kon sighed deeply and pressed his face into Tim's shoulder. Tim could feel wetness gather on his shirt. "Thank you," Kon said.

Tim just held Kon for a while, reaching up to stroke his hair. He'd been so caught up with how Paris had made him feel, he hadn't even considered what it must have done to Kon. The things Kon had experienced, and from such a young age, it made Tim ill to think about it. Knockout had taken advantage of Kon, as had Poison Ivy. Tana… it didn't feel fair to point fingers at her, considering what had happened to her in the end, but she wasn't innocent either. She'd been twenty-three when she'd started dating Kon, who was physically fifteen at the time. Tim was seventeen and he couldn't imagine dating someone who was twenty-five, or even twenty-three. How could Tana have thought that it was okay?

Eventually Kon pulled back, scrubbing his eyes. "Okay, alright, one last thing we really need to talk about," he said. "We should tell Cassie."

Tim sighed. "I know," he said.

"I know you don't want to tell anyone about us yet, but it isn't fair to her," Kon said. "I  _ cheated  _ on her with you. That's one thing I don't have  _ any  _ sort of excuse or explanation for."

"Right," Tim said. "You're right, I know that, I just… she's going to be so  _ mad _ ."

"She's got every right to be mad," Kon said. He gave Tim a wan smile. "But don't worry, it's me she'll be mad at."

"Oh, she's going to be mad at me too," Tim said. "I'm her friend, and I had sex with her boyfriend. And I knew how hard you…  _ being gone _ hurt her. This is like, the ultimate betrayal. This could  _ ruin  _ our friendship."

Kon groaned. "Yeah, I know. It  _ sucks _ ," he said. "We still need to tell her though. She deserves to know."

Tim sighed. "So, when do we tell her?  _ What  _ do we tell her?"

"Not a clue," Kon said, rubbing his eyes. "We should just be honest I guess?"

"She's going to  kick our asses," Tim said.

"She is," Kon said. "I know I couldn't take her in a fight."

Tim remembered something from earlier. "Hey, did Jason try to give you a shovel talk?" he asked.

Kon snorted. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, it probably would have been scarier if I couldn't  _ literally  _ overpower him with my pinky toe, but he gave it his best effort."

Tim laughed. "And he acts like he doesn't care," he said. "He's actually a big softie on the inside."

"I can't imagine he'd take that well if you said that to his face," Kon said.

"He'd shoot me in the face if I said that to him," Tim said. "A rubber bullet probably, but it sure would hurt like a bitch."

Kon huffed. "I wouldn't let him hurt you," he said.

"My hero," Tim said, flopping down so his head was against Kon's chest. By now the sky had fully lightened into morning, the sun starting to poke over the horizon. Tim struggled to keep his eyes open, the night's patrol starting to catch up to him.

"Tim?" Kon asked. "You falling asleep?"

"Yeah, a little," Tim said, stifling a yawn. "Long night."

"Want to go to bed?" Kon asked.

Tim gave a nod. Kon gingerly scooped him up and carried him to his bedroom, making Tim huff a small laugh. "I could have walked," he said. "I'm not that exhausted."

"I like carrying you," Kon said. He gently laid Tim down on his bed and began to move away when Tim caught his wrist, stopping him.

"You… you don't have to go yet," Tim said, voice soft.

Kon stayed where he was, staring down at Tim. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Tim nodded again. After another moment of hesitation, Kon lowered himself down to the bed and laid down next to Tim. Tim scooted forward so they were pressed against each other. Kon took the hint and laid an arm across Tim's waist, pulling him close. Tim let out a content sigh and snuggled into Kon's chest.

They laid there for a while, Tim slowly drifting off. Kon's heavy arm around him felt safe and secure. At some point Tim's bedspread ended up wrapped around them, probably with help from Kon's TTK. Tim felt warm and safe and exhausted, the emotional toll of the day taking more out of him than expected. However, after having talked it all out, Tim felt much lighter, like he'd scraped out all of the gunk from a nasty, infected wound. It still hurt, and it wasn't healed, but the pressure was gone. Tim drifted off to sleep, knowing it wasn't over, but feeling better about the future.

* * *

Tim woke up later in the afternoon, slowly rousing back into consciousness. Kon was still wrapped around him, snoring lightly, oblivious to the world. Late afternoon light poured through the window, making the world seem hazy and golden. Tim felt like he was wrapped in heat, Kon’s warm body around him making him feel groggy and lethargic even after getting a full mornings’ rest. Tim sighed and snuggled closer, burying his slightly cold nose into Kon's clavicle.

Kon hummed in his sleep, squeezing his arm around Tim and shifting closer. His leg had somehow made its way between Tim's knees at some point during the night. Kon moved his leg up, sliding it between Tim's thighs until he came in contact with Tim's groin.

Tim stifled a yelp, whole body tensing. It was completely innocent, Kon wasn't even aware of what he was doing, there was no reason for Tim to freak out. Kon grumbled something in his sleep and pushed his hips forward, pressing his erection against Tim's pelvis.

The next thing Tim was aware of, he was on the floor, tangled in his blanket and breathing hard.

"Tim?" Kon asked groggily, sitting up and blinking blearily in the afternoon light. "Why are you on the floor?"

Tim searched for something to say that was a reasonable explanation. He couldn't quite get his head together in time for Kon not to notice that he was tenting the front of his pants. He flushed and pulled a section of the sheet over to cover himself.

"Shit, did I—?" Kon started to ask, but taking in the sight of Tim on the floor and the slightly wild look in his eyes, he knew the answer. "Fuck, I'm so sorry Tim."

"No, it's fine," Tim said, trying to untangle himself from the blanket. "You were asleep, you weren't even aware of it."

Kon groaned and put his face in his hands. "I still feel like a jerk," he said.

Tim felt a lump of guilt roll around in his stomach. "Sorry, I tried not to freak out."

"No, don't be," Kon said with a sigh. "It's not your fault."

Tim finally managed to get himself upright and stood up. "We're going around in circles," he pointed out.

Kon snorted. "Yeah, again," he said with a small smile. He let out a defeated sigh. "What a mess."

Tim sat down on the edge of the bed. "Maybe this was a bad idea after all."

"Spending the night?" Kon asked. Tim pulled his legs up to his chest and said nothing. Kon's face fell. "Being together," he stated.

Tim sighed. "I like you Kon, I… I  _ love  _ you, but maybe that's not enough," he said, feeling his eyes sting.

"We've haven't even been together for a month," Kon pointed out.

"And in that month we haven't done anything heavier than making out because every time it feels like we're going to go further I lose my marbles and freak out," Tim said.

"We don't  _ have  _ to have sex Tim, I'm okay with going slowly," Kon said, scooting to the edge of the bed so he was sitting next to Tim. "I'd be fine if we  _ never  _ had sex. I just want to be with you."

"But  _ I  _ want to have sex," Tim said. "I know it's stupid and contradictory, but I  _ want  _ to be with you. I want to be able to have sex and be intimate with you, I just…  _ can't  _ because my brain is fucking stupid and hates me."

Kon was quiet for a while, absorbing what Tim said. Tim knew it was crazy and didn't make any sense, but he did want to be able to have sex with Kon. He wanted to explore that part of his sexuality, and he loved Kon; he wanted it to feel good, and he wanted to make Kon feel good, he just couldn't get his brain to agree with him.

"Have you talked to your psychiatrist about this?" Kon asked softly.

Tim shook his head. "It's embarrassing," he said.

"She's your doctor, she's not going to judge you," Kon said. "Not unless she's a shitty doctor."

Tim snorted. "I know, I just… I feel like such a freak. What seventeen year old  _ wants  _ to have sex with his boyfriend but  _ can't  _ because of that one time they fucked in a gross abandoned laboratory? It's messed up."

"I mean, the circumstances are kind of…  _ specific _ , but I'm sure a lot of people struggle with this. Sex is really weird. The first time I ever had sex, I got killed like, the next day," Kon said.

"Yeah?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, it took me and Cassie a while to work through that one," Kon said. "But we got through it, and we did it together." He reached out and laid his hand over Tim's on the bed. "We can do this, we just have to try."

Tim felt his chest flutter slightly. He turned his hand over and squeezed Kon's warm hand, taking a deep breath. "How?" asked softly.

Kon thought for a minute. "We could try exposure therapy?"

"Exposure therapy?" Tim questioned.

"Yeah, Bart told me about it," Kon said. "He used it to help me get through my fear of hurting someone if I touched them," he explained. "It's basically just slowly exposing you to the thing that's triggering you in controlled doses, so you build up a tolerance and you see that it's not that scary."

"I know what it is, I'm just wondering how it's going to work," Tim said.

Kon hummed. "We could start with… taking our shirts off? No touching, just shirtless. We've done that before we were even dating."

Tim nodded. "Yeah that… that sounds like something I can do."

Kon smiled and carefully extracted his hand from Tim's, slowly taking off his shirt. Tim couldn't but watch Kon's muscles shift as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it away. It really was unfair how effortless it was for Kryptonians and half-Kryptonians to maintain such amazing bodies.

"You know, I told my friend Ives about you," Tim said. "I showed him a picture."

"Yeah?" Kon asked, grinning. "What did he say?"

"He said you looked like two guys stacked on top of each other," Tim said.

Kon threw back his head and laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, grinning widely.

Tim chuckled. "He told me my type was dumb jocks," he said.

"Hey, I'm not a jock," Kon protested. They both laughed at that, and Kon nudged Tim's knee with his. "Okay, you too," he said.

Tim nodded and reached for his hoodie. He'd been shirtless in front of Kon countless times before, either when they were swimming or in the changing rooms, it was completely normal for them to be undressed in front of one another. Tim pulled off his hoodie and the shirt he was wearing underneath, leaving him naked from the waist up.

"Feels okay?" Kon asked softly.

Tim nodded. "Yeah, it's okay."

Kon smiled. "Good," he said.

Tim smiled back, trying not to freak himself out. Kon's gaze ran over his body, taking in his pale, scarred skin. Tim was quite trim and athletic, but nowhere near as cut as Kon, and less used to taking his shirt off in front of others. It was true they had been shirtless in front of one another many times before, but it suddenly felt very different. The look in Kon's gaze was hungry, making Tim want to shiver, but he made no move to touch Tim at all. Tim couldn't help the rush of heat through him.

"Your heart rate picked up," Kon said. "Need to stop?"

Tim shook his head. "No, I'm not nervous," he said. At least he didn't  _ feel  _ nervous. It felt more like excitement than nerves, like he was on top of a very tall building and about to swing off.

"Do you want to keep going?" Kon asked.

Tim nodded. Slowly, he reached a hand up and laid it on Kon's thick bicep, feeling his warm skin. Kon took a deep breath and mimicked him, reaching up and taking hold of Tim's arm.

A jolt ran through Tim's body, originating at Kon's touch. For a second Tim's vision went blurry and Paris rang in his ears. Kon immediately retracted his hand. "Shit, you okay?" he asked.

"Fine, I'm fine," Tm said quickly, closing his eyes and trying to shake off the intruding memories. "It's fine, I was just startled is all."

"Okay, let's stop," Kon said.

Tim shook his head. "No, I want to keep going."

"Tim," Kon said, "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Tim said, "I trust you."

Kon pressed his lips together, clearly not sure. Tim reached out and took Kon's hand, squeezing it with his own. "I'm okay Kon," Tim insisted. "I can keep going."

Kon still didn't look sure, but he gave a nod. Tim slowly lifted Kon's hand, pulling it towards himself. Gently, he laid Kon's palm against his chest.

_ The world spun and Tim was suddenly on his back, Kon’s mouth still moving against his, settling on top of him like a blanket of warmth. Tim spread his legs to allow Kon to slide his hips in between his thighs. _

Tim closed his eyes tightly against the flood of memories. He forced his breathing to slow and concentrated on the present, on the warmth of Kon's hand against his skin contrasting sharply with the cool air around them. Tim could hear Kon's deep breathing, feel the tension in his arm as he prepared to tear his hand away if it got too much for Tim. There was the faint smell of dust in the air, as Tim hadn't been back in a while. His exposed skin was slightly warmed by the sunlight coming in through the windows.

Tim opened his eyes and smiled at Kon, running his hand up his forearm.

"Okay?" Kon asked.

"Okay," Tim confirmed.

Kon let out a breath. "Geez. You know you really don't have to jump right into the deep end, right? We can splash around in the shallows for a while first."

"I know, I'm impatient," Tim said, smiling slightly. He trailed his hand up Kon's arm to squeeze his bicep again. "Besides, I think this  _ is  _ shallow water. The deep end would probably be if we had sex again."

Kon huffed, gently rubbing Tim's chest. His hands were so soft, impenetrable skin keeping his hands smooth despite all of the hard work he did with them. "You want to stop now? Quit while we're ahead?"

Tim turned it over in his mind. He considered saying yes, but it felt like it would be tempting fate. "We can stop for now," he said, "But I want to keep going later. I think this might actually work."

"I still think you should talk to your therapist about it," Kon said, taking his hand away. Tim shivered as his heated skin came into contact with the cooler air. Kon bent to grab his shirt from the floor. "I don't want to cause more damage than good."

"I'll bring it up next session," Tim promised. "Anywhere to be today?"

"Not in particular," Kon said. "I texted Dad to let him know I was staying at a friends place for the night, so I should be fine. I should probably get going soon."

"Have enough time for breakfast?" Tim offered, picking up his own shirt.

Kon grinned. "Always," he said.

Tim snorted and got off the bed, heading towards the kitchen, Kon at his heels. He stopped for a moment and turned back to Kon. Kon looked down at him curiously, tilting his head slightly. Tim stood up on his tiptoes and kissed his lips. Kon hummed and bent to deepen the kiss, hands coming to rest at Tim's waist. They parted after a moment, but stayed close.

"We should brush our teeth," Tim remarked.

Kon laughed. "Yeah probably."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all this story has mostly been about Tim and his issues, Kon has his fair share of weirdness when it comes to dating and sex. His first girlfriend Tana was 23 when he was like, 15/16. Knockout's age was never stated but I'd put her in late 20s possibly even 30s, and she was very sexually aggressive with Kon, who was—once again—a literal **child**. He was never shown as having had sex with either of them, but that's still really weird. Poison Ivy is kind of odd, because I don't think she was really attracted to Kon all that much, but she still used her sexuality to manipulate him, though it was more to do with how her powers work. In any case, Kon has a History™ when it comes to sex and dating, so it was nice to touch on that here.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done just in time for the holidays. For something that wasn't supposed to be _that_ long, I sure am racking up the chapters. I've been looking forward to writing this chapter though, and I'm fairly certain we're most of the way done, just a few more things I want to get to.
> 
> I don't _think_ there's anything triggering in this chapter? If you spot something let me know.

It was a grey mid winter day in San Francisco, and Kon was nervous.

After having talked to Tim about Paris, they had agreed that they should tell Cassie the next time they saw her. It wasn't fair of them to keep her in the dark for so long, especially if they were going to continue dating. Still, Kon couldn't help but feel nervous. Cassie had been his friend long before they'd ever dated, and something like this could permanently destroy that friendship.

Kon thought about what he was going to say, what he was going to tell her. He really didn't have any excuses for what he'd done, at least none that he felt held water. He'd cheated on Cassie, plain and simple, no weird brain ray taking over his mind or body snatchers switching places with him, just plain old being a fucking idiot. Kon had no one to blame but himself for his own actions.

The only consolation Kon could find in the situation was that his relationship with Tim was getting stronger every day. Exposure therapy seemed to be working, and now he and Tim could make out without their shirts on. It didn't seem like much, but Kon was ecstatic that they'd made it this far, and so quickly as well. Tim was determined to move passed his fears, and sometimes Kon had to be the one reigning him back. He couldn't argue with the results though, as the other night Kon was able to put his hands on Tim's butt.

Today was about confessing however, and Kon had the sinking feeling that it was not going to go well.

Kon tried to keep a lid on his feelings though, not wanting to freak Tim out. They'd talked about what they were going to say to Cassie, and they figured it was best to just rip the Band-Aid off and tell her what had happened. First however, they needed to get her alone to talk to her.

As team leader, Cassie was pretty busy most days they were at the Tower, and was most often in the control room in the mornings, getting up to date on everything that had happened while she wasn't there. Kon and Tim made their way to the control room, finding Cassie swearing to herself as she poured over the data from the last week.

"Hey Cassie?" Tim called, walking over to her. "Do you have a minute?

"Ugh,  _ no _ ," Cassie groaned, tossing a stack of papers onto the table. "I'm so swamped with this stupid data crunching, I'm  _ never  _ going to be able to finish it in time to set up for morning training." She sighed and threw herself back in her chair, tipping it dangerously. "Who knew running a team would require so much Gods-damned paperwork?"

Tim snorted. "Yeah, it can be a bit much," he said. "That is, if you let it get out of hand and don't do it for a couple of weeks. If you stay on top of it, it takes about ten minutes, fifteen if you're a slower reader."

Cassie glared at Tim while Kon stifled his giggles. "I could make you run laps you know. I'm team leader and I could make you do it," she huffed.

"How about instead I help you with this and Kon heads out to set up for training?" Tim offered.

Cassie's eyes lit up. "Really? Oh Hera that would be amazing," she said. "I don't know how you were leader for so long, all this official stuff just boils my brain."

Tim chuckled and sat down at the table. "You were leader just as long as I was," he pointed out, "and you have to learn how to  _ delegate _ . I was always got Bart to sort everything for me so I didn't have to do it."

Cassie snorted. "Does that count as delegating?"

"I think it was actually bribery," Kon said. "You used to buy him snacks if he'd do it for you."

"It worked," Tim huffed. "Don't you have obstacle courses to set up?"

"You volunteered me, I didn't say I'd do it," Kon huffed.

"Kon, go set up the obstacle course for training," Cassie said.

"Are you ordering me around?" Kon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm  _ delegating _ ," Cassie said. "Now go find Bart and bully him into helping."

Kon scoffed and turned, stomping out of the room and leaving Tim and Cassie to review the notes. As he made his way down to the training area he passed Bart talking to a new recruit—the new Blue Beetle Jaime Reyes—and caught him in a headlock, dragging him away.

"Gghk!" Bart gagged, struggling against Kon's iron grip. "What gives bro?"

"You're helping me set up the obstacle course today," Kon said. He made sure to lock his TTK around Bart so he couldn't wiggle away.

"I was talking with Jaime!" Bart protested.

"And now you're helping me," Kon said. "Beetle can come help too."

"Should I be concerned?" Blue Beetle asked, following along behind them nervously.

Bart sighed. "No, I'm fine, Kon is just an  _ asshole _ ."

"You love me," Kon said. He got to the elevator and shoved Bart inside. "Come on, Tim is helping Cassie with the filing, so they should be finished soon."

Bart grumbled a few unkind words that Kon ignored. They got down to the training room and started to set up obstacles, trying to keep in mind everyone on the team and their powers, along with their strengths and weaknesses.

"You fly with wings, right?" Kon asked Blue Beetle. "Or is it like, a jetpack kind of set up?"

"Uh, wings, but it's more like hovering than flying," Jaime explained. "I don't flap them like actual wings."

Kon nodded and made sure to set up extra flying obstacles for him. A few minutes later Cassie and Tim wandered in, followed shortly by the rest of the team. As Bart began to explain the obstacles, Kon caught Tim's eye, silently asking him if he'd managed to breach the subject with Cassie. Tim gave a subtle shake of his head. Kon forced down a sigh and turned to focus on the training.

After training was over, Kon flopped onto the ground with a groan. "Man, that shit was tough."

" _ You  _ set it up," Tim said, leaning over so he was staring down at Kon.

"With help from Bart, who's a little  _ sadist _ ," Kon grumbled. There was the sound of Cassie's familiar laughter from one corner of the room. Kon looked up at Tim. "Should we—?"

"Yes," Tim said, furrowing his brows. Kon hauled himself off of the floor and they made their way over to where Cassie was talking with Raven and Beast Boy.

"Cassie?" Kon called. "Can we—?"

A sudden alarm blared throughout the building, cutting Kon off. Suddenly everyone was in business mode, making their way to the control room to see what the alert was about.

It turned out to be some kind of freak tornado out on the bay, throwing up massive waves and creating whirlpools that threatened to hurt a lot of people. The storm itself was the work of some amateur villain wannabe, someone they probably could have dealt with in five minutes if not for the fact he'd gotten his hands on some seriously advanced tech somehow. Even then, they might have faired a little better if they hadn't had to deal with the tornado blowing them around and the damage it was causing in the harbor.

By the time they had the situation under control, everyone was freezing and sore and annoyed from being freezing and sore. After practically dumping the wannabe villain off with the authorities, the team practically dragged themselves back to the tower.

"Man," Kon groaned, floating through the halls toward his room, "today  _ sucked _ ."

"Says the guy with skin of steel," Tim grumbled, shivering slightly from being drenched in icy bay water.

"I got thrown through a building,  _ twice _ ," Kon pointed out. "I had to hold up an entire dock."

"I'm so soaked I  _ squish  _ as I walk," Tim said, demonstrating with a particular loud, squeaky  _ squelch  _ as he put his whole weight on one foot. Dirty water puddled around his feet, leaving a trail everywhere he went.

Kon sighed. "And we  _ still  _ haven't talked to Cassie."

"Yeah," Tim said dejectedly. "Honestly, after the shitshow today has been, I think we should cut our losses and try again tomorrow."

Kon grumbled something close to a yes and landed in front of Tim. "Sorry babe," he said.

Tim removed his cowl and stepped forward, resting his forehead against Kon's chest. "It's fine, it's not your fault. Today was just weird."

Kon reached up to rub Tim's back under his cape. "Tomorrow we tell her," he said.

Tim hummed, relaxing against Kon, though he kept himself at a slight distance, probably to stop from dripping on Kon. With the hand that was on Tim's back, Kon reached up and tilted Tim's chin so he was looking up at him. Tim raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're so pretty," Kon said, grinning down at him.

Tim snorted. "Doofus," he said.

Kon chuckled and bent down for a kiss. Tim hummed into it, eyes fluttering closed, lashes tickling Kon's cheek. Kon tilted his head to deepen it slightly, wishing he could stay in this moment forever.

A startled gasped shattered the calm air around them. Kon pulled away and looked up, chest turning to ice when he saw Cassie at the bend in the hall, watching them with shock in her eyes.

"Cassie," he said, mind blank. Why did this keep happening to them?

"You—" Cassie started, still staring wide eyed at them. "You kept trying to talk to me today, I was coming to see what was up. I—I didn't mean to intrude."

"Cassie," Tim said, stepping away from Kon. "This isn't—"

"It's fine," Cassie said quickly, putting her hands up and taking a step back. "It's—this is fine. I'm not mad at you, I just—" she bit her lip, wetness gathering at the corner of her eyes, "—I have to go."

She turned and flew off, nearly crashing into Bart who was coming up behind her. He managed to dodge her, staring after he for a moment before turning back to Kon and Tim with a confused look on his face.

"What was that? Why is Cassie crying?" he asked, looking completely dumbfounded.

"Shit," Kon swore, trying to think of what to do. "Shit, shit. We should go talk to her. Shit!"

" _ I'll  _ go talk to her," Tim said, lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Are you sure?" Kon asked. It didn't seem fair to pile that all onto Tim.

Tim nodded. "I'll tell her everything," he said. He glanced at Bart who was still watching them. "You tell Bart."

"Everything?" Kon asked.

"Everything," Tim confirmed. He gave Kon's hand one last squeeze before walking off to follow Cassie. Bart watched him go and then turned back to Kon, still looking completely confused.

"Dude, what the hell?" Bart asked.

Kon groaned and dropped his face into his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw spots. He dragged his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. "Come on, let's go sit first."

Bart eyed him suspiciously, but followed him through the halls to one of the sitting rooms. Kon flopped down on a couch and hung his head, trying to gather his thoughts together. Instead of sitting on the couch next to him, Bart parked himself on the coffee table, directly in front of Kon. He crossed his arms and waiting, tapping a foot impatiently.

"You  _ finally  _ gonna tell me what's been going on with you?" Bart asked, sounding annoyed.

Kon sighed. "Tim and I are dating," he said. "Cassie saw us together before we could tell her."

Bart raised his eyebrows. "Oh damn," he said. "No wonder she was crying."

Kon groaned and put his head in his hands again. "God, that's not even the  _ worst  _ of it."

"What's the worst of it?" Bart asked. "And don't think about lying to me, I'm  _ sick _ of it. You and Tim have been having a weird thing for a while, and you won't talk to us about it. Just… tell me what's going on man."

Kon looked up at Bart and sighed. "Yeah, okay," he said.

Kon launched into the story, telling Bart about Paris, about meeting Tim in the catacombs and screwing him in the lab. He told Bart about how he felt like he'd taken advantage of Tim, how he felt terrible for cheating on Cassie. Kon told Bart how he'd realized he was bisexual, how he'd realized he was in love with Tim, how he and Tim had decided to try and be together now that Tim was improving, and all of the weirdness that had come with that. He spared little detail, even going into the messed up dreams he'd been having about Tim while he'd been too scared to touch anyone for fear of hurting them.

Throughout the story, Bart listened raptly, saying nothing and letting Kon get everything off of his chest. When Kon finally finished explaining that he and Tim had been trying to tell Cassie about what happened, only for her to walk in on them before they could tell her, he just stared at Kon in shock and disbelief.

"Fuck," he swore.

Kon groaned and flopped over onto the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and trying to smother himself with it.

"Dude," Bart said, "this is so fucked up. You  _ cheated  _ on Cassie."

"I  _ know _ ," Kon groaned. "I feel like such a jerk. She's gonna hate me forever."

"She'd be well within her rights man, what the fuck?" Bart asked. "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know!" Kon whined, throwing his arms into the air, tossing the pillow across the room. "I have no idea why I did it. I just… I just don't know."

Bart stared down at Kon, still looking like he was trying to process everything. "Come on man, there has to be  _ some _ kind of reason."

Kon groaned and slung his arm over his eyes. "I have no idea Bart. It… I had just come back to life,  _ everything  _ was all messed up. I don't know  _ what  _ I was doing half the time."

There was a brief pause before Bart spoke softly. "Yeah man, I get that," he said. "I came back to life too. It was weird."

Kon sighed. "I was just so… It was just so  _ weird _ . It wasn't like going away and coming back, it was being  _ dead _ . People mourned us, and then they moved on, and then suddenly we were back. It was this whole big  _ thing  _ for them, but no one wants to talk about it. Cassie… when we first got back together, I tried to talk to her about it, about what happened, but she just  _ wouldn't  _ talk to me. And then seeing Tim in Paris… he was so desperate, and I just wanted  _ someone  _ to acknowledge that I'd been dead."

Bart said nothing, squeezing his arms around himself and looking away. Kon rolled onto his back and sighed, staring up at the ceiling, head a mess. He wished he could go back and fix this whole mess somehow.

"I know it was shitty," he said, closing his eyes. "I know I shouldn't have done it, and I get it if you don't want to be my friend anymore."

"I don't want to not be your friend anymore," Bart said. "I mean, yeah you did a really shitty thing to Cassie, and you'd deserve it if she beat you into next week, but like… I kind of get it."

Kon looked over at Bart. "Yeah?"

Bart sighed. "Coming back from the dead was weird for me too. For like, the first month I could barely sleep from the nightmares, and I kept eating things I hated for seemingly no reason. I ate so much sushi man, it was  _ nasty _ ." He shivered. "So much raw fish. I once just drank a whole bottle of soya sauce just to make myself barf it back up."

Kon sat up. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

Bart shrugged. "I eventually got myself all sorted out. It took a while thought, and it got really bad for a while there. So," he shrugged, still not meeting Kon's eyes, "I get it."

Kon watching Bart for a moment. He let out a long sigh and reached out to pull Bart into a hug. "I'm sorry man."

Bart wrapped his arms around Kon's torso and squeezed. "It's okay," he said. "I was thinking of signing up for the therapy thing the Justice League is doing. Maybe you should give it a shot."

Kon smiled. "I think I might," he said.

They stayed there for a while, hugging tightly and not saying anything, both comforting one another. Kon sometimes forgot that he could go to his friends when he was having issues, and always tried to handle things alone. He had amazing friends, and he needed to remember that he could lean on them more.

Bart gave him one last squeeze before pulling away. "If this blows up in your face, I'm taking Cassie's side," he said.

Kon snorted. "Buddy, I'm taking Cassie's side too. I feel like an absolute  _ heel _ ."

"You should you jerkass," Bart huffed, reaching over to punch him in the arm, then he smiled. "For real though, I'm happy for you and Tim."

"Yeah?" Kon asked, feeling a grin creep onto his face.

"Yeah man, you two would make an amazing couple. Honestly, with his brains and your brawn, you're the ultimate power couple. The League should be scared if you guys ever go dark side," Bart said.

Kon laughed. "Thanks man, that means a lot."

Bart smiled at him. "So, does that mean I get to be best man?"

Kon threw a pillow at him.

* * *

Tim found Cassie on the roof of Titans Tower, curled up with her knees under her chin and looking out over the ocean. He'd taken his time finding her, stopping to change out of his soaked uniform into a comfy hoodie and warm sweatpants, letting her cry herself out a little before he confronted her. Tim watched her for a moment, before sighing and walking over to sit next to her on the edge of the roof.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence. Tim tried to get the word up and out, but they stayed somewhere in his stomach, weighing heavily in his gut. Anything he could say just seemed inadequate.

"I'm not mad, you know," Cassie said eventually, shattering the silence.

"No?" Tim asked.

Cassie shook her head, keeping her eyes on the horizon. "When you first came out to everyone, my first thought was that it was only a matter of time," she said. "You two… you've always had a connection."

Tim pressed his lips together. "You and Kon have a connection too. He loved you."

Cassie tilted her head to look at him and smiled. "And he probably still does, and always will, but it's got  _ nothing  _ on what you two have," she said. "The two of you have always been so close, ever since we were dumb kids. There's something there between you two that just can't be described with words. If I could prove it, I'd call you two soulmates."

Tim flushed. "I… if it ever seemed like I was trying to come between you two—"

"No, it was nothing like that," Cassie said. "It was just… you changed your colours for him."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "I wanted to honour him."

Cassie raised an eyebrow right back at him. "Your girlfriend Steph died a few weeks before, you didn't change your colours to purple."

Tim ducked his head. "Eggplant," he mumbled, but conceded her point. "Cassie I… we were trying to tell you today."

"I figured," Cassie said. "I noticed that you two were getting closer recently, disappearing together and smiling at each other when you thought no one was looking. I was prepared for it… or I  _ thought  _ I was," she said with a sigh.

"I'm sorry Cassie," he said. "We never meant to hurt you."

Cassie let out another long sigh. "I know you didn't," she said. She stretched out her legs and leaned back on her hands. "You two are cute together, by the way. Kon's a great boyfriend. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," Tim said. He shifted uncomfortably in the cold. "Cassie, there's something else we needed to tell you."

Cassie turned to him with a frown. "What?" she asked.

Tim swallowed, hating himself for what he was about to do. Carefully, he told her about Paris, trying to keep his retelling as mechanical as possible. He felt a little sick, knowing he was hurting her with his words, but he knew he had to let her know. He tried to explain the whys and hows as simply as possible, but even to his ears it got all jumbled and complicated.

When he finished, he let the silence punctuate the air. Cassie stared at him for a moment, looking shocked. Tim held her gaze, despite feeling extremely uncomfortable. Whatever he was feeling was nothing compared to what Cassie must be feeling.

"Thank you… for telling me that," Cassie said eventually, sounding somewhat distant.

"I'm so sorry Cassie," Tim said. "I know sorry doesn't fix anything, but please believe me when I say that neither of us wanted to hurt you."

"I believe that," Cassie said slowly, still wide eyed and stunned. She turned to look out over the ocean again. It was already starting to get dark, and the water was turning from grey to black.

Tim kept quiet, letting Cassie absorb what he'd just told her, trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. Cassie had been his friend for so long, and now he'd possibly just ruined it forever, not only for himself, but for Kon as well. He suddenly wished he could take it back, that he'd never told her. Why did they feel the need to hurt her this way? If they hadn't told her, she never would have had to know.

They stayed on the roof until it went completely dark. Tim shivered, wishing he'd grabbed a proper coat or hat before coming out. He stayed where he was though, not wanting to leave Cassie unless she asked him to go.

After several minutes Tim couldn't take the silence anymore. "Are you angry?" he asked.

Cassie took a deep breath, letting it out in a cloud of fog. "I'm not  _ not  _ angry," she said, "but I'm not really sure  _ how  _ to feel about it. I know I  _ should  _ be angry, but… it was months and months ago, and Kon and I are broken up anyway."

"You have every right to be mad at us Cassie, we aren't asking you not to be," Tim said. "What we did was really shitty, and it never should have happened."

Cassie nodded. "Yeah, but… I remember what you were like, just before you left. If you were worse than that in Paris… I mean, you said it was the beginning of you self harming right?" Tim gave her a nod and she continued. "Yeah so that's… that's something."

Tim wrapped his arms around himself. "It doesn't excuse us from what happened."

Cassie groaned and dropped her head back. "Tim, I know you want to be guilty and shit, but I don't fucking  _ know  _ if I blame you for this. I saw how you were before you left, if you were worse… I don't know if I wouldn't have done something similar, if it were me."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "You think so?" he asked.

Cassie shrugged. "I joined a  _ cult  _ Tim, grief does weird shit to people," she said. "So just… give me some time to think about it, okay?"

Tim took a deep breath. "Okay," he said.

They lapsed back into silence for a while, sitting next to one another on the rooftop, staring out over the water. Tim still felt anxious, but it began to settle in his chest. There was nothing to do now but wait, and if Cassie decided she didn't want to be their friend, she wasn't wrong for wanting that.

A cold wind blew passed and stole the breath out of Tim's lungs. "Cassie, I'm going to head inside, it's really fucking cold out here."

"Oh  _ shit  _ yeah, you don't have a spleen," Cassie said, suddenly getting up. "You shouldn't even  _ be  _ out here. You're gonna die of pneumonia if you stay out in this cold. I'm so sorry, I should have remembered." She held out a hand to help him up.

Tim stifled a smile. "I came to find you, don't worry," he said, taking her hand and letting her drag him to his feet. "Also I'm taking preventative antibiotics, I'm not going to die of pneumonia."

"Still, you shouldn't be out in this cold," Cassie said, heading to the door back inside. "I don't want you getting sick."

"Thanks Cassie," Tim said, following her back inside.

They walked back down the stairs to the top floor. The silence returned as they made their way to the elevators, travelling back down to the common floors. Tim wasn't sure what he should be doing, if he should leave Cassie alone or stay with her until she dismissed him. They made their way through the halls, only to be stopped when they saw Kon and Bart talking in the sitting room. Cassie paused, staring at Kon, who jumped up when he saw her.

"Cassie," he said, starting to reach for her and then stopping and glancing towards Tim. Tim gave him a wan smile, but it was clear that he had told Cassie everything.

Kon hung his head. "Cassie… I'm really sorry," he said.

Cassie nodded. "I know," she said. Kon took a breath, ready to tell her in his own words what had happened, but Cassie stepped back. "I need some time to think for a bit, okay?"

Kon snapped his teeth shut. "Right, yeah okay," he said, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "Take whatever time you need."

"Thanks," Cassie said, starting to walk away. She stopped after a few paces and turned. "Treat Tim better, okay?"

Tim felt his face go hot, but Kon only gave a nod. "I will," he promised.

The corner of Cassie's mouth twitched, like she wanted to smile, but she turned and walked away before they could see it. Bart slipped passed them, catching Tim's eye for a moment before zipping off with a rush of air, leaving Kon and Tim alone together.

Kon let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "So, how'd it go?" he asked.

"She said she's not sure how she feels," Tim explained. "She needs time."

"Right, of course," Kon said. He let out another sigh. "I knew we were going to tell her, but I don't think I was prepared for this."

"Me neither," Tim said, letting out a sigh of his own. "She said she's happy for us though. She called us soulmates."

Kon blushed. "Oh, uh," he fumbled. "That's um… sweet."

The corner of Tim's mouth quirked up. He let out another long sigh and stepped forward to curl into Kon's chest. Kon wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

"Shit Tim, you're  _ freezing _ ," Kon said.

"Sorry, I was outside with Cassie," Tim said.

"You were  _ outside _ ? Do you  _ want  _ to catch a cold?" Kon huffed, keeping one arm around Tim's shoulder and pulling him along. "Come on, let's get you warmed up."

Tim rolled his eyes, unable to stop a grin forming on his face as Kon led him through the halls. They ended up sitting up in Kon's bed together, sipping hot chocolate and watching TV on Kon's laptop. Tim rested his head on Kon's shoulder, letting the exhaustion of the day settle over him. He breathed deeply and relaxed into Kon's side, glad to at least have this at the end of such a shitty day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed and has a Happy Holiday, whatever the fuck that holiday happens to be.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but I was hit with a sudden inspiration for how to end the fic, and this was the best way to get things in the right place for that. I'd honestly been struggling on how to actually end this fic for a while since I didn't really have that much of a plan going into it. I mostly had scenes that I wanted to do and had to navigate on how to get to them. As a result I don't think this was my best work, but that's okay I had fun anyway. Hope you guys like it!

It took three days for Cassie to speak to them again, which was less time than Kon had expected. He'd expected Cassie to spend maybe a couple of weeks being royally pissed off before she hunted him down to kick his ass into next winter. Instead she found him on the farm three days later in the middle of his chores.

He'd just finished putting fresh hay down for the cows when he heard her enter the barn. Kon looked up to see Cassie walking towards him, wrapped up in a winter coat and hat. He set down his pitchfork and turned to face her.

For three days Kon had been tearing himself apart over what had happened. Bart had been playing mediator between them and Cassie, but he hadn't given them much information, only that she was taking some time to think, and she didn't seem like she was super depressed or furious over it. Standing in front of him, she didn't seem like she was about to beat him into a crater, but it was hard to tell.

After about a minute of silence, Kon couldn't take it anymore. "If you want to punch me in the face, you can," he said.

Cassie laughed, nose wrinkling in that adorable way she did when she thought something was really funny. Kon relaxed fractionally. If she was laughing at him, she probably wasn't going to throw him into the sun.

"I'm not going to punch you in the face," Cassie said, smiling up at him.

"You sure?" Kon asked. "I'd let you. You've got a free shot."

"Maybe later," Cassie said. Her smile faded slightly, eyes going sad. "Can we talk?"

Kon nodded, gut feeling like a nest of snakes. He closed up the barn and they walked out to the picnic table that they'd sat at when they got back together, so many months ago. They took a few minutes to clear the snow away, then sat down across from one another.

Silence returned, awkwardness jamming Kon's throat closed. He wanted to throw himself at Cassie's feet and apologize profusely, but he held back, waiting to see what she wanted to do.

Cassie took a deep breath. "So you and Tim, huh?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Kon said. "For a little over a month now."

Cassie nodded. "I mean, I'd kind of guessed. You two aren't that subtle."

Kon flushed. "Sorry."

"No no, don't be," Cassie said, putting up a hand. "Honestly, I've kind of been expecting it since Tim came out. The two of you… the more I think about it, the more it seems so obvious, even right from the beginning, right from our Young Justice days."

Kon ducked his head slightly. "Yeah," he said. "I… I never really understood attraction to other guys, so I never realized until…"

"Until Paris," Cassie finished for him.

Kon shifted uncomfortably. "I'm so sorry Cassie. I don't have any excuse."

Cassie took a deep breath, looking out over the expanse of Kansas winter farmland. They'd had a snowstorm last night, and the entire landscape was buried under several feet of snow. It would have been quite pretty if Kon hadn't spent the whole morning digging out the house and barn.

"I'm mad at you, and at Tim," she said. "It was a really shitty thing that you guys did, and you're both jerks for doing it."

"That's fair," Kon said.

"Honestly, I'm tempted to keep being mad at you, but…" she trailed off and let out a long sigh. "Bart told me what you told him."

Kon pressed his lips into a thin line. "It's not an excuse," he said.

"It's not," Cassie said, "but that doesn't mean I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

Kon looked up, shocked by the admission. Cassie wrapped her arms around herself. "When you came back… I didn't want to even  _ think  _ about the year you'd been go—been  _ dead, _ " she grimaced at the word, "much less talk about it. Whenever you brought it up, I just shut down, changed the subject and deflected. I put my own feelings about it before yours, even though you were the person that died."

Kon sucked in a breath. "I mean, it's not on you to manage my shit," he said.

"But that doesn't mean what I did was fair," Cassie said. "So, I get it, in a sense, why you did what you did."

Kon stared at Cassie, looking into her blue eyes. The last time they'd been at this picnic table, they'd kissed and restarted their relationship anew. Kon had felt so happy at the time, like things were just as he'd left them before he'd died. Looking back on it, he doubted trying to start a relationship had been healthy for either of them at the time. He'd just been so eager to restart his life, get a second chance, he hadn't thought about the repercussions.

Kon let out a long sigh. "What a fucking mess," he said.

Cassie snorted. "No kidding," she said. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you're a jerk, but I understand the context of you being a jerk, and I forgive you for being a jerk."

"Oh thank God," Kon said, letting out a deep breath and sagging slightly. "I was so worried I'd ruined our friendship and that you'd hate us forever."

"It would never be forever," Cassie said. "I'd be pissed for a while, but we've known each other for so long, I don't think I could ever actually hate you. Actually, I'm still kinda pissed, now that I think about it."

"You've still got a freebie, if you want to use it," Kon said. "Offer valid for a whole five years."

"Just five years?" Cassie asked, grinning slightly.

Kon shrugged. "I think if you're holding onto it for that long, it starts becoming a 'you' problem."

Cassie laughed. "Fair enough," she said. "I'll be sure to cash it in before then."

Kon laughed, feeling relaxed and happy. It felt normal, to be talking with Cassie again. It didn't feel like there was any bitterness between them. He couldn't imagine his life without her, and he was glad they had managed to talk it out.

"So," Cassie said, "you and Tim getting together, give me the deets."

Kon puffed out a breath and shrugged. "What's there to say really? I realized one day I was madly, obliviously in love and I haven't been able to look back since. We finally managed to get our shit together and have been dating for about a month now."

Cassie hummed. "You knew he was gay before either me or Bart, which was months ago. You didn't realize at the time or something?"

"No I knew," Kon said, "but… he wasn't in a place where he was comfortable with it, it wouldn't have been healthy for us to start a relationship just then."

Cassie nodded, frowning slightly, probably remembering the sight of the cuts on Tim's legs. "Your death… was really hard on him," she said.

"Yeah," Kon said. "But we're getting better now. He's been feeling a lot better. We've talked about telling our families soon."

"That's great, I'm really happy for you," Cassie said, smiling at him. She reached over the table and gripped Kon's wrist. "I mean it, I really am so happy for you two."

Kon smiled. "Thanks Cassie," he said.

She smiled, then gripped his wrist hard enough to make him wince. "But if you ever hurt him, I'll rip your spine out through your ass and beat you with it."

"Ow, okay okay!" Kon said, managing to pull his wrist out of her grip. "Geez, nice to know who your favourite is."

Cassie laughed. "If he hurts you, the same applies to him. It's just… Tim's been through a lot, he doesn't deserve more shit on top of everything else."

"That's fair," Kon said.

"What's the term? Once a cheater, always a cheater?" Cassie teased.

Kon pouted at her. "I know I deserve it, but ouch."

Cassie snorted. "Weenie," she said. She took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm glad we talked Kon."

"Me too," Kon said with a smile. He checked the position of the sun. "Ma probably has lunch ready by now, want to come inside?"

"Yeeeees," Cassie sang, hopping up. "Ma's cooking is the  _ best _ ."

Kon laughed. "She'll be happy to see you, she loves guests."

"it's been so long since I was here," Cassie said. "You really need to invite us out here more."

"I'll try to remember that," Kon said.

As they made their way back to the house, Kon walked side by side with Cassie, feeling leagues better than he had that morning. He'd been an asshole and done something horrible to her, but she seemed to understand that he'd never done it with the intent of hurting her. It was all a jumbled mess of complicated emotions on both sides. They were friends, practically family, and they weren't going to let this tear them apart.

* * *

Winters in Gotham were cold. Not just 'cold', but  _ frigid _ , making even short trips outside cause for bundling up in as many layers as possible. The perpetually damp climate of Gotham made for that particular kind of clinging, wet cold that slithered into every nook and cranny, sinking bone deep. Ice and sleet covered everything, causing people to slip and fall on perfectly flat ground. Most sensible people stayed inside as much as possible, avoiding the vicious weather unless necessary.

Crime in Gotham however, seemed to be a necessity of life, so even though Tim would much rather have been curled up with a good book and a half-Kryptonian space heater cuddled up to his side, he was out on the streets, fighting weird crime.

"Please, just stay in prison," Red Robin begged, zip tying Condiment King around a lamp post. "No one likes fighting you, it's  _ embarrassing _ ."

Condiment King swore a blue streak and started swearing revenge on Red Robin and the whole of the caped community. Red Robin sighed and swung away, feeling worn out even though the night wasn't even over. As easy as it was to wallop on D-listers like Condiment King and Kite-Man, it wasn't exactly satisfying, and Red Robin never felt like more of a bully. Still, he couldn't just ignore them when they popped up, no matter how seemingly harmless these guys were.

Red Robin swung over the streets, keeping his eyes out for anything unusual. The holidays meant a spike in crime, so he and the others were stretched thin, stopping robberies and crimes of passion left and right. It was times like this that Tim wondered just how viable Bruce's 'no metas' rule was, as he certainly would turn down a friendly speedster or Amazon right now.

Or a Super.

Red Robin landed on a rooftop and stopped to take a quick breather. The city stretched out underneath him, sprawling buildings reaching up towards the sky, like palms reaching for the delicate snowflakes that began to fall around them. Icicles dangled over precarious drops, threatening to shatter at the slightest provocation. There was a cold bite in the air, masking the usual city smells of pollution and garbage. Every so often the wind would jump up and snatch the breath right out of his nose and mouth, causing his lungs to seize for a second. Red Robin let out a long breath, the cloud of fog rushing away on the wind as soon as it appeared. Tonight the city was more beautiful and even deadlier than usual.

The sound of a gunshot drew Red Robin's attention, and he took off towards the sound. As he approached the alley where the sounds were coming from, he could pick out a familiar voice swearing hard enough to make a sailor blush. Red Robin carefully peered over the edge of the rooftop, trying to get a better sense of the situation.

Red Hood was locked in a shootout with at least three shooters, trapped at the end of a dead end alley. He was holding his own quite well, and the three shooters were moving backwards. Red Robin leapt over the side of the building and dropped down on the head of one of the shooters, flinging a disk at one of the others, taking them both out. The final shooter swore and bolted.

"I had that!" Red Hood grumbled at him, coming out from his hiding spot.

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "You were backed up against a wall," he huffed, carefully tying the two downed shooters with zip ties.

"Yeah, and pushing them  _ back _ ," Red Hood grumbled. "Now we've got to chase the other moron."

"Why? We've got these two," Red Robin said, nudging one of the shooters with his boot. "You could squeeze them for information on their hideout and pick up the other one later."

"Like I'd let a dangerous, armed gunman just waltz through my streets," Red Hood huffed. Red Robin dropped his gaze to the pistol at his hip. Red Hood growled. "You  _ know  _ what I meant," he snapped.

Red Robin sighed. "In any case, I think the other one is long gone. There's no way we'll be able to catch his trail with how hard it's starting to snow," he said, gesturing to the giant sticky flakes falling around them. Even a recent trail would get obliterated within a few minutes.

A shot rang out through the alley, the bullet slamming into a fire escape next to Red Robin's head. Red Hood swore and took off, following a vague shape through the falling snow. Red Robin cursed and followed after, not wanting to leave Red Hood to deal with it alone.

They chased the shooter through the alleys, trying to keep him in their sights, but it was difficult to follow through the falling snow. After a minute, it seemed as though they had lost him again. As they slowed, the shooter turned and fired a couple shots. The bullets sailed over their heads, slamming into the brick and stone of the building behind them.

"It's like he's  _ trying  _ to miss us," Red Robin hissed, something unpleasant starting to take shape in his mind.

The shooter ran through the deserted streets and alleys, nearly sliding off his feet several times, but keeping ahead of them. Every time they almost lost him, the idiot would turn around and fire off a shot or two. They eventually chased him all the way to a warehouse, where he disappeared inside.

Red Hood cursed and bolted for the entrance the shooter had disappeared through, Red Robin on his heels. The unpleasant thought solidified and Red Robin stopped up short, grabbing Red Hood to stop him. It took every ounce of his Bat-trained reflexes to keep them both from ending up face first in the snow.

"What the hell, brat?" Red Hood swore, tossing off Red Robin's arm after he'd righted himself. "We're gonna lose him."

"He was leading us here," Red Robin said. "He  _ wanted  _ us to follow him. This is a trap."

Red Hood growled and made his way to the door, throwing it open and grabbing his pistol off his hip. "I'm not letting this fucker get away," he said, stalking inside.

Red Robin sighed and drew his bo staff to follow. At the very least, Red Hood seemed to be taking caution and moving forward slowly. Wet footprints on the ground led them through a winding hallway.

"Who are these guys, anyway?" Red Robin asked, keeping his voice low.

"Enforcers from the human traffickers I took down," Red Hood explained. "They weren't happy about me taking a bite out of their operations and sent a couple guys to scare me off. They've been tailing me for a week, but they caught me off guard today."

"They set a trap that you nearly walked right into," Red Robin huffed. "There's probably thirty armed goons hiding in this warehouse waiting to open fire."

"So call in reinforcements or something," Red Hood huffed. They made their way around a corner, careful to move slowly incase someone actually was waiting.

"Would you be okay with that?" Red Robin asked. "Having everyone come to help? Having  _ Batman  _ come to the rescue?"

Red Hood stayed quiet for a few minutes. "He still doesn't know where I live," he remarked.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow under his cowl. "No, why?"

"You haven't told him?" Red Hood asked.

"How is this relevant to our current situation?" Red Robin huffed. "Do you want me to call the others or not?"

For a few seconds, Red Hood said nothing. Red Robin was about to ask again when Jason spoke. "Call them," he said.

Red Robin blinked in surprise, honestly having not expected Red Hood to say yes. "Alright," he said, reaching up to activate his comm.

Just as Red Robin was about to activate the line a shot rang out, bullet zipping passed his cheek. Red Robin swore and jolted, bringing his hand up to his stinging face. His fingertips came away bloody, meaning the bullet had barely grazed him, inches from killing him.

Red Hood cursed and jumped in front of him, blocking any more shots. A dark shape at the end of the hall disappeared around a corner and they took off running after him. The followed the banging footsteps through the winding halls, never getting a clear enough shot. Finally, the shooter slipped through a door, taking great pains to try and get it shut behind him.

They slammed into the door with all of their weight, breaking through easily. The shooter stumbled backwards, sprawling across the floor. He scrambled back, trying to get away from them, but Red Hood was on him in a second, grabbing him by the ankles and hauling him back. The shooter’s eyes bugged out and he began to struggle, yelling and trying to kick Red Hood in the face.

“Would you quit that?” Red Hood snarled, blocking a boot to the face. “I’m not even gonna kill you, calm down.”

“Let me go you fucking idiot!” the shooter screamed, eyes wild.

He was starting to flail desperately, bucking and thrashing so hard that Red Robin had to jump on his right arm to get him to stop wiggling. However, the man was left handed and Red Robin hadn’t noticed. When he pulled out his gun from his left, Red Hood swore and dove, catching Red Robin and dragging him down before the man could fire point blank at Red Robin’s face.

They went crashing to the floor and the shooter scrambled up, booking it for the other side of the warehouse where there was a door. Red Hood cursed and got up taking aim and firing a shot. The rubber bullet hit the back of the shooter’s head with a crack that echoed through the warehouse, dropping the man to the floor, completely unconscious and probably with a nasty concussion.

“Well that was a lot of drama,” Red Hood huffed, standing up from where he’d practically been kneeling on top of Red Robin. “Really, I haven’t even killed one of their ops. I mean sure, a couple of them got maimed, but it’s nothing to be such a little bitch over.”

Red Robin got up from the floor, mind already turning things over. “You’re right, it  _ was _ dramatic,” he said. “Why did he bring us here?”

“You’re the one who said it was a trap,” Red Hood said, holstering his gun.

“But where’s the trap?” Red Robin asked, gesturing around them. “This is the perfect spot to get gunned down by those thirty guys we were talking about, but there’s no one here but us.”

“So he didn’t set off the trap, big deal,” Red Hood said with a shrug. “Bad guy is caught, no one got hurt, day is saved, everyone goes home.”

Red Robin shook his head. “I don’t like this,” he said. He looked over to where the man was still sprawled on the concrete floor. “He was trying to get away.”

“Uh yeah, no shit,” Red Hood said. “If I was getting chased by a guy who once sawed a bunch of people’s heads off and the best detective in the world, I’d probably shit my pants.”

“He was  _ desperate _ to get away,” Red Robin said. “Not to get away from us, but to get out of the building.”

“So?” Red Hood prompted, tone suggesting he was only partially annoyed.

Red Robin looked around the room, heart thudding slightly in his chest and hair standing up on the back of his neck. In the far corner of the room near a load bearing pillar was a large pile of something covered with a tarp. Under a flap of tarp Red Robin could see a blinking green light.

Tims stomach sank, a block of ice landing in his intestines. Red Hood followed his gaze and went completely rigid at the sight. The blinking green light went solid for a second, then turned red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops.
> 
> I wrapped up things with Cassie very quickly, but I don't think it would have served the story to draw it out other than to drag it out over some filler chapters, which I'd have to make shit up for because I was running out of ideas :/ Like I said I don't think this is the best quality work I've ever done. But, I think I managed to do okay.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter chapter, but I figured it was packed enough to make up for it. I actually got this done so fast I reached the end of it like "that's it?" lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Triggers for I guess contemplation of suicidal thoughts? I guess you could call it that.

The first thing Tim was aware of was the sharp ringing in his ears. As he was dragged further into consciousness, other sensations started to become apparent. The choking smell of dust and chemicals, burning his nostrils and throat as he struggled to breathe. The grit on his face, clinging to exposed skin and worming its way into his mouth, making everything taste like ash. There was a heavy weight on top of him, pressing him down, practically covering him. Tim groaned and shifted, trying to get out from under the weight.

He went still when it groaned in his ear.

Suddenly it all came rushing back; the shooter, the chase, the warehouse, the explosion,  _ Jason _ . Just as Tim had registered that the pile under the tarp was most likely going to kill them both, Jason had moved, slamming his body into Tim's and throwing himself on top of him just as the explosion rocked the building.

Tim tried to call out, but whatever dust and chemicals he'd been breathing had dried and burned his throat to the point where even the smallest attempt at sound hurt like dragging barbed wire through his throat. Tim coughed for a few minutes, trying to clear his airways. He felt lightheaded and buzzy, adrenaline starting to kick in. In a few minutes Tim would start going into shock, so he had to move quickly.

"Jason," Tim managed to rasp out, the word feeling like fire in his throat and lungs.

Jason said nothing, completely unconscious. Tim tried to move again and Jason made a pained noise. Managing to twist around to get a better look around him. The whole building had collapsed on top of them, metal and concrete rubble creating a jagged prison encasing them. Tim took a breath and tried to determine if he'd been badly hurt. Aside from a worryingly numb arm, he couldn't feel any major damage. It seemed as though Jason had shielded him from the worst of it.

Tim looked at Jason, trying to ascertain how badly he was hurt. Due to the helmet, it was impossible to tell what state of consciousness Jason was in. He seemed alive so far, groaning in pain when Tim moved under him, but it was difficult to tell how long that would last. Something slick between their bodies made Tim fairly certain Jason was bleeding heavily.

"Jason," Tim croaked again. "Jason wake up."

Jason moaned, muscles bunching and shifting like he was about to move, then relaxed again. Jason went limp and still.

Tim cursed. His numb arm was trapped under his body, and the other was trapped between himself and Jason. Carefully, trying not to cause any damage, Tim tried to wiggle his arm free. Jason made little hitched noises of pain as Tim moved, but Tim reminded himself that those meant that Jason was still alive and needed medical attention.

After several minutes of wiggling, Tim finally got an arm free. He noted that his pinky finger was bent weirdly, broken either from the force of a building being dropped on him or when Jason had roughly shoved him down. Either way, it was something to worry about later, when they weren't trapped under a building.

Taking deep breaths to try and keep focused, Tim brought his hand up to his ear and activated his comm. For one terrifying moment there was only static, but then a click as the line connected.

"Red Robin," Batman's voice came through—Tim could have cried from relief. "You didn't check in. Where are you?"

Tim tried to clear his throat. "Warehouse," he rasped. "Chasing a guy… explosion… we're stuck… I can't move."

"Stay where you are," Batman ordered, but there was a note in his voice, something that sounded so close to panic. "We're going to come get you. Just hold on Tim."

Over the comm, Batman started barking out orders to the others. Tim could hear Nightwing vaguely on the other line, as well as Oracle and Batgirl. Even Robin seemed to be contributing. Tim couldn't remember if his line was open to all of them or just Batman, but it was nice to hear them at least.

"Tim? Are you still there?" Batman asked.

"Here," Tim coughed. "I'm here."

"Stay with me Tim, we're coming to get you," Batman said, and Tim could practically hear his clenched jaw. Over the comm there was the faint roar of the Batmobile driving at top speed.

"Jason," Tim said.

"Jason is with you?" Batman asked, sounding surprised.

"Protected me," Tim explained. "I think he's hurt pretty bad. He's alive, but he isn't waking up."

Batman was quiet for a moment. "We're coming Tim, don't worry," he said. "We'll get you both out."

Tim groaned and slumped to the cold floor, feeling completely worn out and ready to pass out again. Everyone was on their way, they were going to get them out and it was all going to be okay. He could rest now, couldn't he?

Somewhere above him, there was a shuddering groan of metal bending, then a shriek as something snapped. The rubble shifted around them, a slab of concrete weighing somewhere around five tonnes slamming into the ground mere inches from Tim's head, causing him to let out a startled yelp as the shock rattled through his skull.

"Tim!? Tim!" Batman called. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Tim had to take a moment to collect himself. "Something broke," he said. "The rubble isn't stable. It's going to collapse."

"We're nearly there Tim, don't worry. We're going to get you out," Batman said.

Tim looked up at the rubble above them, all of it precarious and threatening to collapse on top of them at a moment's notice. There was a crash from somewhere else in what used to be the warehouse, sending ripples through the rest of the structure and causing dust and ash to rain down on them. It would take only an instant for the exact right structure to break and bury them completely. If they were lucky they'd be crushed and killed instantly. If they weren't, they would suffocate under hundreds of pounds of debris, a process that could take minutes or hours.

Jason gave another pained moan, shifting above him. Tim was glad that he was unconscious, not wanting to put him through this again. The last time a building had blown up with him inside it, Jason had died. It didn't seem fair that this was how he was going to die again. Jason had just begun to restart his life, to get better and actually start being welcomed back into the family. And what about Roy and Kori? They would be devastated if Jason died.

Unbidden, Tim thought of all the things that would happen if he himself died, all of the projects he wouldn't get to finish, the cases he wouldn't get to solve. There were so many people he would be leaving behind. Bruce, Dick, Steph, Cass, Kate, Alfred, Ives, Bart, Cassie,  _ Kon _ , so many people Tim loved and loved him who would be hurt if he died.

Another shudder rippled through the rubble, and a shaft opened up above them, bringing with it a gust of winter air. It was cold and sharp enough to cut like a knife when Tim breathed it in, shocking him awake. Flakes of snow drifted down and melted on his cheeks. Tim felt his eyes sting with tears.

"I don't want to die," he said, staring up into the night sky.

"You're not going to die Tim," Batman said in his ear. "We're almost there, don't worry."

"Bruce," Tim said, fighting not to cry. "I don't  _ want  _ to die."

The revelation made Tim start to tremble. He didn't  _ want  _ to die, and wasn't that such a novelty? He'd spent such a long time  _ wanting  _ to die, and then not caring whether he died or not, and now as he lay there dying, he realized he wanted to  _ live _ . He wanted to live and see the people he loved, be with them and walk into the future with them, whatever that future may hold.

_ Kon _ , Tim thought, chest constricting. There was so much he'd never told Kon, so many things they'd never done. A fist sized lump of regret made its home in Tim's throat.

"I don't want to die," Tim repeated.

"I know Tim," Bruce said. "We're going to get you out. Please… please hold on."

Tim closed his eyes, feeling tears gather under his mask. In the distance he could hear the roaring of the Batmobile's engine and the screech of tires as Batman arrived at the warehouse. He could pick out the sound of a motorcycle as well, meaning Nightwing or Batgirl had also arrived. There were shouts and cries and someone frantically calling his name.

He opened his eyes and stared up at the little sliver of sky he could make out. "Kon," he called.

* * *

Kon was laughing at some kind of joke Cassie made when he heard it, carried on the wind over the flat plains of snow. It was so faint that he might have missed it if he wasn't so attuned to that particular voice. Kon abruptly stopped laughing and sat up straight, looking off toward where the voice had come from.

"Tim?" Kon called, even though he knew Tim wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Kon?" Cassie asked. "You okay?"

"I heard Tim," Kon said, standing up and going to the window. He saw nothing but a huge expanse of snow as far as he could see. "He called my name."

"Maybe was talking about you?" Cassie asked, even as she stood up, ready to spring into action.

Kon shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. He couldn't shake the sense of dread that settled in his stomach, screaming at him to do something. "I think he's in trouble."

In an instant, Cassie went from his best friend, the person he could rely on most sometimes, to a fearless leader, the person Kon knew he could trust to get him through anything. Wonder Woman had chosen her protégés well.

"Can you hear anything else?" she commanded, though not harshly.

"Give me a sec," Kon said, closing his eyes and concentrating. Gotham was hours away, and there was a lot to sort through, but Kon knew Tim's voice, his heartbeat. It took some concentration, but after a moment he managed to narrow his focus and find Tim's heart thudding rapidly in his chest like he was excited or scared. The sound was oddly muffled, like he was underground. There was another heartbeat right next to him, slow and slightly weak. Carefully Kon pulled back, expanding the area he was focusing on. He could hear Nightwing, Batgirl, and the other Bats calling out for Tim, the sounds of broken concrete and metal sliding against one another as they tried to move them.

Kon's eyes snapped open, ice cold dread solidifying in his stomach. "He's trapped somewhere, he's in danger," he said.

Kon wasn't even aware that he was moving at first, and the next thing he knew he was flying at hypersonic speeds towards Gotham. A bark next to him told him that Krypto had followed him, and the whistle of air behind him let him know that Cassie was on his heels. Kon could hardly think, hardly  _ breathe _ his chest felt so tight. He kept his ears trained on Tim's heartbeat, feeling sick at the idea it might stop.

They landed in Gotham a few minutes later, stopping suddenly in the air with a rush of wind. Through the falling snow Kon could see what looked like the remains of an explosion in a crumbled warehouse. Nightwing, Batgirl, Batwoman, Robin, and Batman were all picking their way carefully through the rubble, calling out for Tim, and—oddly enough—Jason.

Kon floated down close to Nightwing. "What happened?" he demanded.

Nightwing jolted at his sudden appearance, but recovered quickly. "Someone blew the building with Tim and Jason inside. They're buried here somewhere."

Kon felt like he was going to be sick. He listened to where Tim's heart was strongest and followed it to a little gap in the rubble. Looking down, he could see something red.

"Tim!" he called down the shaft. "Don't worry! I'm gonna get you out!"

Kon moved to start shoving the debris away, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He whipped around to shove whoever had the  _ audacity  _ off of him, but had to look down at Robin.

"You can't just  _ shove  _ the debris, moron," Robin hissed. "The whole thing is unstable, it could fall on top of them and kill them both."

Kon clenched his jaw, ready to throw Robin off and dig Tim out himself if he had to, but another hand on his shoulder stopped him. "He's right Kon, you know you can't just dig like that," Cassie said. Her grip was much firmer than Robin's.

"I can't just leave him down there!" Kon said, knowing he sounded panicked and frantic but not caring. He had to save Tim.

"We're not leaving him down there," Cassie said gripping his shoulder tightly. "You're going to stabilize the area around Tim with your TTK and we're going to start clearing the debris, okay?"

It was a good plan, Kon knew it was a good plan, but all he wanted to do was tear the rubble off of Tim with his bare hands. He swallowed it down, pushed it away until he could think again. It wouldn't help Tim at all to get emotional and upset. He gave Cassie a nod and put his hands on the rubble, letting his TTK extend all the way to the bottom until he could feel two warm bodies. Sucking in a sharp breath, Kon started to take hold of the debris in the immediate area, securing it in place. They'd done this before countless times, for all kinds of natural disasters. Kon would find the people underground or buried, stabilize the area around them, then let Cassie and the other heavy lifters clear away the debris quickly, rescuing people as fast as possible without risking them getting crushed.

It was so much more nerve wracking when it was someone Kon loved.

"Superboy's got the area around Tim stable!" Cassie called to the others. "We can dig him out!"

From there things seems to move quickly but in slow motion. Kon poured all of his concentration into keeping the area around Tim secure, listening to his heart at the bottom of the rubble. Around him the others worked quickly to clear away the pieces of warehouse. Cassie moved the largest blocks while the other Bats took care of the smaller stuff, and while it moved a lot faster than conventional disaster relief, they still had to be careful. Even Krypto was helping, digging out large swaths of rubble with his super paws.

If Kon were in the right mind to appreciate it, he'd be amazed by how readily everyone was working together, how the Bats—normally so resistant to taking orders from anyone else—had easily let Cassie take the lead. Even Batman hadn't questioned her or tried budging on over her authority. And it was all to save Tim.

"We're coming babe, don't worry," Kon said through gritted teeth.

* * *

Tim drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, listening to the shouts above him but unable to muster the energy to reply. Every so often he managed to poke Jason to make sure he was still alive. Jason was still groaning and huffing in response to being bothered, but his reactions were getting weaker each time. Furthermore Tim was still worried about the patch of slick substance between their bodies.

Suddenly, the rubble around them stopped shifting, taking on a stiff, solid quality, like it was frozen in time. Tim blinked in confusion for a moment before he realized it could only be Kon using his TTK to keep things in place. He must have heard Tim somehow and come to help. Tim wanted to call out to him, but the wave of relief that washed over him made him dizzy enough to almost knock him out.

At some point, Tim became aware of something moving next to him. Slowly, Tim managed to open his eyes and turn his head, even though the entire process felt laborious. Something was digging next to Tim's head, scratching at the concrete and metal. Suddenly a pair of white paws appeared, followed but a black nose. Krypto poked his head through the hole he'd made and let out a bark in Tim's face.

"Good dog," Tim said, weakly lifting his hand to try and pet the Super-Dog. Krypto caught his hand with his mouth and tried to gently tug at his arm. Tim tried to pull his hand away until he realized that Krypto was going for his glove. He twisted his hand to help get the flexible material off.

Once the glove was free, Krypto carefully backed out of the hole he'd made and disappeared. There was a shout somewhere above him as they realized how close they were to Tim and Jason.

Tim gave Jason another poke. He didn't move, remaining completely limp and silent on top of Tim. Tim poked him harder, before straight up pinching him, and still got nothing.

"Jason," Tim said, pinching him again. "Come on, we're almost there."

Krypto reappeared in the hole, having managed to dig it out further. He barked once and licked at Tim's cheek, sniffing at Jason. Whining, Krypto began to carefully crawl over them, trying to get to somewhere near Jason's other side.

"Tim?" Someone was calling him. "Can you hear me? Tim?"

Tim coughed. "I'm here," he managed. Distantly he wondered if feeling cold was a byproduct of the weather or if he should be very concerned, but that felt like something he could deal with later.

There was some shuffling near the hole and suddenly a face pushed through. "Drake," Damian said, something like relief in his voice. "Be still, we're going to try to make the hole bigger to get you out."

"Jason," Tim insisted. "He needs help."

"You  _ both _ need help, fool," Damian huffed. "Just be patient. You are not allowed to die."

Tim snorted despite himself. There was the sound of metal wrenching and Jason finally groaned. It took Tim a moment to realize the sound was Krypto, chewing through something metal that was pinning Jason in place. That would explain the slickness between them. Tim hoped that it was only blood and nothing else.

Damian carefully backed out of the hole and now Tim could see several hands working to get the hole open wider. Finally it seemed large enough to fit a fully grown human through. With a metallic snap, whatever had been pinning Jason came free. Krypto crawled back over them and took a firm hold of Jason, dragging him through the hole. Tim groaned in pain as a two hundred pound man was dragged over him, but sighed in relief when he could finally breathe again.

Krypto dragged Jason through the hole and out to where the others were waiting. There was a commotion as everyone fussed and fretted over Jason. Tim closed his eyes and tried to stay patient, to not let his emotions run wild. Teeth sinking into the Kevlar of his cape snapped him back to reality. Krypto carefully dragged him towards the hole. The rough ground under Tim's bruised body had him biting his tongue not to scream. Gritting his teeth, Tim reached up with one hand grabbed hold of Krypto's collar, letting himself be dragged into the cold air.

Immediately Tim was beset by faces. Cassie's worried eyes stared down at him as she lifted him out of the rubble the rest of the way. Nightwing crowded into his field of vision, followed by Batgirl, both of them speaking too rapidly for Tim to follow. After a moment they were shoved back and Batman appeared, jaw set with worry.

"Tim? Can you hear me?" Bruce asked, reaching one hand down to feel around the zipper of his cowl so he could tug it off of him.

"Bruce," Tim groaned, voice nearly completely gone.

"It's okay Tim, we're going to get you home," Bruce said, finally getting the cowl off. A little pen light was flashed in his eyes, but Tim could feel gloved fingers stroking his hair.

"Tim!" someone called, and suddenly Tim was staring into the most wonderful shade of blue he'd ever seen.

"Kon," Tim breathed. In his entire life, he didn't think he'd ever been more glad to see Kon's worried and horrified face. He automatically reached for him, wanting to curl up in his arms and sleep until everything stopped hurting so damned much.

Kon scooped him up into his arms, TTK wrapping around him securely even though his arms were like iron bands. Before anyone could protest or complain, Kon ducked his head and kissed Tim fiercely. Tim sighed into the kiss, happy and content.

"You're alive," Kon hissed, sounding like he was about to shatter into a thousand pieces as he nuzzled close.

"Couldn't die," Tim rasped, clinging to Kon's shirt with his good hand. "Not without seeing you."

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger for you ♥️ Ain't I a stinker?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I wish I didn't have a hyper fixation on writing and I could torture you all with slower chapter output, especially when I leave cliffhangers. What a problem to have I suppose.
> 
> Triggers for medical stuff, needles I guess? Probably inaccurate medical practices.

When Tim woke again, it was to that fuzzy, floaty feeling that came with being on the good drugs. He drifted for a while, conscious thoughts having the consistency of soup. Slowly he began to solidify into something resembling his usual self, realizing that he was in the med bay of the Cave, and that he was not alone.

Jason lay in the bed next to him, all manner of tubes and monitors hooked up to him. He looked pale and was still unconscious, but it looked like he was breathing on his own, so there was that. He'd been stripped of his clothing, and Tim could see the white bandages wrapping his torso. Above the bandages was the large Y-shaped scar—as well as the many smaller ones—scrawled across his chest. His pillows had been fluffed and he was covered in one of the thin but warm blankets they kept in the med bay. When Tim shifted on his own bed, he could tell that he was similarly covered.

Tim relaxed back onto his pillow (extra fluffy, just the way he liked) and took stock of the damage. Underneath the veneer of painkillers, he could pick out the locales and nature of his injuries, something Bruce had trained him to do. For the most part, he just felt bruised, especially along his back. His shoulder had probably been dislocated and his pinky finger had definitely been broken. There was also the telltale roughness in his throat and chest that spoke of chemical inhalation. Overall it wasn't a bad takeaway from having a building dropped on him.

With a sigh, Tim opened his eyes again and looked around for the little call button to let someone know he was awake, when he suddenly noticed a lump to the side of his bed. Upon closer inspection, the lump turned out to be Kon, slumped over in a tiny chair.

Kon looked ragged, hair a mess like he'd been running his fingers through it and tugging on it. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was starting to look a little pale, like he hadn't been out in the sun for a couple of days. His hand rested near Tim's, like he'd been holding it when he'd been awake but relaxed his grip when he'd fallen asleep. He was slumped over in a way that couldn't be comfortable, but apparently he couldn't bring himself to leave Tim's side, even to sleep.

Tim watched Kon for a minute, studying his face. It was such a familiar face, something Tim had been seeing for years, but he'd rarely taken the time to appreciate fully. Everyone knew Superboy was handsome, but in honesty he really was something else. Tim catalogued the high cheekbones, the square jaw, and the plush lips that made up Kon's face. Everything from his strong nose to the delicate eyelashes was as perfect as though it had been carved by angels with a particular taste for perfection. Even hunkered over in an uncomfortably tiny chair, exhausted and probably in need of a shower, he was so amazingly beautiful that Tim could have spent hours staring at him.

The steady rise of pain in his body was getting too insistent for Tim to ignore any longer though, and he needed to let someone know he was awake and lucid. Tim gently ran his fingers through Kon's hair, marveling at how soft the black strands were, as well as noting that Kon did indeed need to shower. Kon groaned and stirred, slowly opening his eyes. He stared blearily at Tim for a moment before jolting out of his chair.

"Tim!" he exclaimed. "You're awake!"

Tim smiled and tried to say something like 'hi', but his voice caught in his throat and he started to cough. Kon swore and darted around the med bay, searching for some water. Eventually he managed to find the little pouches of water in the minifridge and brought one to Tim, piercing it with the straw before holding it out for Tim to take a sip.

After gulping down some water, Tim sighed and relaxed back into the bed. He looked up into Kon's worried face and smiled. "Hey," he croaked.

Kon's mouth twitched up in a crooked smile. "Hi," he answered. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I had a building dropped on me," Tim huffed, groaning in pain as he shifted on his cot. "Is Alfred or Bruce around? I'd like some more drugs."

"I think they're upstairs," Kon said, setting the half-finished water pouch on the bedside stand. He pressed his lips together in a slightly pinched expression. "Uh, I'm not sure how much you remember, but I um, kind of outed us to your family," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry."

Tim tried to wave a hand dismissively, ending up sort of flopping it around on the blanket. "It's okay," he said.

Kon raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you'd be way more upset."

"Being nearly crushed to death really does wonders for sorting out your priorities," Tim explained. He turned his head to smile at Kon. "I'm just glad to be alive."

Kon's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Yeah, me too," he said. He leaned over Tim and pressed a kiss to his lips, leaning their foreheads together. "I was really scared Tim. I thought I almost lost you."

"I'm okay," Tim said, closing his eyes. "A little banged up, but I'm okay."

Kon took a deep breath, and Tim could guess at all the things going through his mind. Kon could ask him to not put himself in that kind of danger again, but he had to know that it was a futile request, due to the nature of what they did. He could beg and plead for Tim not to do that again, but they both knew it wasn't fair. So Kon would never ask Tim to do that, even if he wanted to.

"I'm glad you're okay," Kon said softly.

Tim hummed, closing his eyes and enjoying the closeness for a moment longer. Kon pressed gentle kisses to his cheeks and nose, as light as butterfly wings. He ducked down and kissed his mouth again. Tim sighed into it eyes fluttering closed. His shoulder throbbed and he hissed.

"Sorry, do you mind calling Bruce or Alfred?" Tim asked, eyebrows pinching together. "I'm really starting to hurt."

"Shit, yeah okay," Kon said, feeling around the bed for the call button. He pressed it and picked up Tim's water pouch again. Tim had just finished it when Alfred came into the med bay, quickly followed by Bruce.

"Good morning Master Tim," Alfred greeted. "Or should I say, good afternoon."

"Hey Alfred," Tim said, managing to smile.

"Wonderful to see you awake and lucid my boy, how are you feeling?" Alfred asked, already bustling about checking Tim's vitals.

"Sore," Tim groaned. "Can I have more drugs?"

"In a moment," Alfred said, mouth quirking up slightly. "I'd like to keep you conscious for a few more minutes at least."

"If you have to," Tim sighed dramatically, smiling up at the elderly butler before turning to look at Bruce.

Bruce hovered like a silent gargoyle at the foot of Tim's bed, watching him intently. He looked like he hadn't slept much, but that tended to be how he usually looked anyway. When he caught Tim's gaze, he walked around to stand at his side.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice steady and serious. It was the voice he used when he was worried, but trying desperately not to show it.

"I'm okay," Tim said. "I'll heal up fine, no worries."

"That's not what I meant," Bruce asked, reaching out to gently rub his thumb along Tim's cheekbone.

_ I don't want to die _ , Tim had said over the comm, a desperate revelation. It had been so clear at the time, how much he'd wanted to live, it was almost enough to make Tim giggle. He'd been wanting to die for so long, it took a near death experience to change his mind.

Tim closed his eyes and leaned into Bruce's hand. "I'm okay," he said again.

Bruce took a deep breath. "Good," he said. Carefully he stepped back, letting Alfred check Tim's vitals. He glanced over at the other cot, frown returning to his face.

"How is he?" Tim asked, looking over to where Jason was laid out.

"Master Jason is in rough shape, but nothing he shouldn't be able to recover from," Alfred said, words careful. "It seems as though he took the worst of the damage when the bomb exploded."

"He saved my life," Tim said. " _ Again _ . That's two I owe him now."

"Didn't he try to kill you a bunch of times?" Kon asked. "I think this should balance it out at least."

Tim chuckled, then stopped when it made his bruised ribs yell at him. "Probably," he said. "Has anyone called Roy and Kori?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Tim. "They called us actually. They called Dick last night after they heard about the explosion."

"Oh good, I wouldn't want them to worry," Tim said.

"Hm." Bruce crossed his arms and straightened his shoulders slightly. "And how did you know they were both involved with Jason?"

Tim cursed internally. Maybe he didn't need anymore drugs after all. "Um, we may have talked about it," he said.

"Right," Bruce said. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the brunch you and Princess Koriand'r shared when you went over to his safe house to discuss how you and I were gathering evidence on him."

_ Busted _ . Tim shrank into his pillows. "I promised I wouldn't tell you anything that wasn't relevant to Red Hood," he mumbled.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Tim—"

"While I do believe Master Tim has much to answer for in the way of keeping secrets, something he's learned in spades from  _ someone  _ in this room in particular, I would think that it could wait until  _ after  _ he has healed some more," Alfred said, cutting off whatever lecture Bruce was gearing up to give. "Wouldn't you agree, Master Bruce?"

Bruce grumbled something indistinct. "Alright, fine," he huffed. He turned back to Tim. "But we  _ are  _ going to talk about it."

Tim ducked his head sheepishly, hoping he looked appropriately pathetic. Bruce wouldn't be deterred from giving him a lecture at some point, but Tim could hopefully chip away at his ire until he was only mildly annoyed with him.

Bruce cleared his throat. "In any case, I'm glad you're alright Tim," he said. His eyes softened and for a moment, he looked as exhausted as he probably was. "Get some rest, okay?"

Tim smiled up at him. "Thanks Bruce, I will," he said.

"On the subject of rest," Alfred said, getting out a small syringe and a bottle of clear fluid. "I believe you are due for another dose Master Tim."

" _ Finally _ ," Tim sighed. "It feels like my back went through a meat grinder."

"Be thankful it's only as painful as it is," Alfred said, preparing the dose of painkiller. "It certainly could have been much worse."

Tim looked over to Kon, who had moved back to let Bruce and Alfred close. "Yeah, it certainly could have been," he said.

Kon gave him a small, tired smile. Bruce glanced between the two of them and cleared his throat. "In any case, we'll leave you to get some rest," he said, pointedly glaring at Kon, who shrank away from him.

Tim rolled his eyes and reached for Kon, gesturing for him to come closer. He could already feel the painkillers dulling his senses and pulling him back into unconsciousness. Kon stepped forward obediently and Tim tugged him down for a lingering kiss.

"You rest too, okay?" he said. "I'm going to be fine. You don't need to hover."

"I know," Kon said, nuzzling into Tim. "I just needed to know you were okay."

"You need to shower," Tim said.

Kon snorted. "Look who's talking," he said. He kissed Tim again. "Okay, I'll let you sleep."

Tim hummed, blinking slowly as the painkillers started to work. "I love you," he said.

Kon flushed slightly, a fond smile gracing his face. "I love you too," he said. He kissed Tim one last time before stepping back, flinching when he noticed Bruce glaring hard at him. He flashed Tim one last fond smile before leaving the med bay, fleeing from The Batman.

Bruce spared one last glare after the super, then sighed and turned back to Tim. "We're going to have a talk about  _ that  _ as well," he said.

"Hm? What was that?" Tim hummed, closing his eyes. "Can't hear you, I had too many drugs."

Bruce grumbled something, but a moment later Tim felt calloused hand running through his hair. "Sleep well Tim."

Tim let out a sigh, letting the painkillers drag him under. Just before he drifted into unconsciousness, he felt the press of a kiss to his forehead.

* * *

The second time Tim woke up, it was to a commotion somewhere beside him. Reluctantly, he dragged his eyes open, chasing away the dark and trying to figure out what was going on. The commotion was from the cot next to him, where Jason was cursing and trying to wiggle out of bed. It was proving to be difficult for him, as his entire leg was in a large cast and his torso was wrapped in thick bandages.

"You're going to hurt yourself," Tim remarked, startling him.

"Fuck," Jason cursed. "I need to get out of here."

"To where? The emergency room after you shred your stitches?" Tim asked, trying to sit up slightly.

"Anywhere that isn't  _ here _ ," Jason hissed, trying to get his hands functional enough to start pulling whatever monitoring devices and IV's out of his arms.

"Would you stop?" Tim asked, subtly pressing his call button. "You're going to make it worse."

Jason swore a blue streak and gave up on his IV's. "Great, just perfect," he snarled. "I stick my neck out for some little brat I don't even  _ like _ , and now I'm back  _ here _ , in the last place I want to be."

Tim fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You know Bruce isn't going to try to put you in jail, right?"

"Maybe not in  _ prison _ ," Jason said, "but I wouldn't put it past him to keep me locked up down here 'for my own safety'."

Tim raised an eyebrow, but was saved from saying anything when Dick walked into the med bay. He stopped in his tracks when he saw that Jason was awake.

"Oh, I didn't realize," Dick said. "Tim was the one who called. Should I—?"

"Should you piss off? Yes, go the fuck away," Jason snarled, trying once again to get out of bed.

Dick darted forward to stop him. "Hey! Quit that, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Don't fucking touch me," Jason growled, trying to shove Dick away. Tim pressed his call button again.

"Jason, stop!" Dick said, easily wrestling him back into bed, battered and weak as he was.

"Let go!" Jason shouted, starting to put up a fight. Tim bit his lip and started holding the call button, hoping someone get there soon.

Dick tried unsuccessfully to calm Jason down, but everything he tried seemed to wind him up more. Tim was starting to consider trying to get out of bed to help when Kori and Roy walked in. Kori immediately took over restrained Jason to the cot while Roy tugged Dick back a few paces.

"Be still," Kori commanded, floating above the cot to hold Jason down. Her touch looked gentle, but Tim guessed she was using considerable force to hold him down.

"Kori," Jason said, a note of desperation in his voice. "I need to get out of here."

"You need to relax, my love," Kori said, voice soothing but firm. "You are safe here. I will protect you."

Miraculously, Jason started to relax. Tim could see a slight sheen of sweat on his face. Roy took a cautious step forward and took Jason's hand.

"Hey man, how are you feeling?" Roy asked, keeping his tone calm and light.

Jason gritted his teeth together. "Hurts," he hissed. "Fucking warehouse. Fucking clown."

Tim raised his eyebrows. Did Jason think he was back in Ethiopia, where he died? It wasn't too far fetched, what with the explosion and the warehouse, but Tim hadn't even noticed that Jason was having a flashback. Was this what he was like when he got triggered?

"I know it hurts, but you have to stop moving," Roy said, squeezing Jason's hand. "You're going to hurt yourself again."

"I need to get out of here," Jason said, starting to struggle again, but calming when he felt Roy's hand in his.

"Where are you Jay?" Roy asked. "Look around and tell me what you see."

Jason reluctantly tore his gaze away from Roy, eyes darting around the room. "Medical room," he answered.

"Good, what else?" Roy asked patiently.

Jason looked around again. "Monitors, surgical shit, you and Kori," he started listing, relaxing as he did so. His eyes came to rest on Tim, a flicker of recognition flashing through them. "The brat," he said.

"Right, good," Roy said. "You know where you are?"

Jason slumped back onto the bed with a huff. "The med bay in the Cave," he said.

"Do you remember what happened?" Roy asked.

"Yeah I remember," Jason huffed. "Got another warehouse dropped on my head. Fuck."

Roy snickered. "Yeah, you seem to have an unfortunate track record," he said. He squeezed Jason's hand tightly. "You okay now?"

"No," Jason grumbled. "This is  _ not  _ where I want to be."

"Sorry, we got here late," Roy said. "You're not well enough to move yet."

Jason swore and closed his eyes. Kori reached forward and stroked his hair. "Do not fret my love," she soothed. "Nothing terrible will happen to you here. We will protect you." She glanced back at Dick, something unreadable on her face. "No matter who they are."

Jason sighed, leaning into Kori's touch. Roy squeezed his hand. "You're gonna be okay Jay, we promise," he said. "Let's get you back in bed properly, okay?"

"Fine," Jason huffed. He hissed as Kori got him situated more comfortably on the bed. "Fuck. The painkillers are wearing off."

"You probably didn't help with all your flailing around," Roy said, fixing Jason's blanket for him.

"I need to check your vitals," Dick said, finally stepping forward again. "Before I give you anything else."

Jason glared at Dick. "Where's Alfred?" he asked.

"Had to step out to go to the store," Dick explained. "I've been trained to read vitals, I can do it."

"That's not why I'm asking," Jason huffed. Kori reached down and flicked his ear. "Ugh,  _ fine _ , but make it fast."

Dick breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward to start checking Jason's vitals. "It's nice to see you again Jaybird," he said softly after a couple moments of silence.

"Shut the fuck up," Jason growled, "Or I'll stab you with a scalpel."

"There's no need to be rude Jason," Tim said.

"Can it, brat," Jason huffed, turning to glare at Tim. "This whole mess is your fault anyway."

"How is it  _ my  _ fault? I  _ told  _ you it was a trap," Tim said. "You're the one who ran in without thinking."

"I had a plan," Jason huffed.

"Oh, and what was that? Get shot? We're lucky we're alive," Tim said. "But fine, don't listen to me, clearly  _ I'm  _ the bad guy here."

"Glad you see it my way," Jason said.

"You're such an asshole," Tim growled.

"And  _ you're  _ a snot-nose brat," Jason fired back.

"Jason, be nice to your brother," Kori said, though she was doing a poor job of hiding her amusement.

Jason snorted. "He started it."

" _ You  _ started it!" Tim exclaimed.

"Wow, can't tell you guys are siblings at all," Roy said dryly.

Jason grumbled, but before he could snap at Roy, Dick cut in. "Okay, it looks like you're alright," he said. "I'll get the painkillers."

"What is it that you're giving him?" Roy asked.

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Um, pretty strong stuff, why?" he asked.

Roy pulled out a little bottle of pills. "Would it react with this?"

Dick took the bottle and examined it. "No, I don't think so. Hold on, Alfred has a chart somewhere."

Tim took a moment to watch Jason as Dick and Roy discussed the medications. Jason was laying back on the pillows, eyes closed and brow furrowed in pain, Kori gently stroking his hair to try and soothe him. His face had taken on a pallid quality, and his breathing was quick and shallow.

"Jason? Are you okay?" Tim asked.

"Fine," Jason grumbled. "Just… a little dizzy is all."

A minute later Dick finally administered the painkiller, with Roy giving him a couple pills from the bottle to swallow. It didn't take long for Jason to pass out again, letting everyone breathe a sigh of relief.

"Sorry about that," Roy said. "That can happen sometimes, especially if he's missed a dose."

"I didn't even know he was taking medication," Dick said. "I just thought he was starting to come around."

"I mean, yeah a little," Roy said, "but the medicine has a lot to do with that."

"I didn't realize he was having a flashback," Tim said. "It seemed like he knew where he was at first."

"Jason's psychosis is not so straightforward as that," Kori explained. "It is not so simple as being present and lucid or not. Sometimes he can slip in and out of it without even us noticing."

Roy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway, it's probably not for us to tell you about it," he said. "I should probably get back upstairs."

"I will remain with Jason," Kori said. "I promised to keep him safe."

Roy nodded and stretched to give her a kiss before leaving the med bay, giving Tim a tired wave as he left. Tim sighed and relaxed back into his pillows, exhausted from all of the excitement.

"Feeling okay kiddo?" Dick asked, coming over to stroke Tim's hair. "Need anything? How's the pain?"

"Just tired," Tim said. "I'm just going to go back to sleep."

"Okay," Dick said, giving him a tired smile. "Want me to sit with you for a bit?"

Tim thought about the awkwardness of Dick and Kori sitting in the same room while she was there for Jason. "No, I should be fine, thanks though."

"Alright," Dick said. "Call me if you need anything." He pressed a kiss to Tim's forehead and left the room, pausing once to glance at Kori before sliding the door closed behind him.

Tim let out a sigh and closed his eyes, quickly letting sleep overtake him again.

* * *

When Tim woke for the third time, it was slowly, as though from a gentle but restful sleep. For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming, soft voices speaking in low tones drifting over him. After a moment, Tim realized that the voices were in fact not in his head, but somewhere next to him. Keeping still and keeping his breathing steady, he tried to focus on what was being said.

"—ome home Jason," Bruce's voice said, low but insistent.

"This is  _ not  _ my home," Jason snapped back, vicious but also quiet. "It hasn't been my home in years."

Bruce sighed. "This will always be your home Jason, no matter what," he said. "You'll always have a place here Jason. Nothing will ever change that."

"Not even all the blood on my hands?" Jason hissed. "I broke your stupid rule, I killed a lot of bad people who deserved it and I tried to kill you and the rest of this so-called 'family'."

"Not even that," Bruce answered easily. "Jason, I… I can forgive your past. I know you were hurting and you blamed me for that. You were right to, I should have been there for you. I should have protected you. So I understand what you did, and why you did it. What matters now is the future." There was a pause as Bruce took a deep breath. "Jason, do you have any plans to kill me or any of your siblings in the near future?"

"They're not my siblings," Jason grumbled.

"Jason," Bruce said firmly. Tim knew that tone, the one he used when he demanded a straight, truthful answer. He'd used it so many times that Tim was almost conditioned to answer when he used it, and he knew Dick felt the same. How would Jason react?

There was a pause, but apparently even Jason still had some Robin in him. "No," he answered quietly.

"Then I don't see the issue," Bruce said, voice softening. "Jason, you don't have to come back and live in the manor, or work with us as Red Hood if you don't want to, but I would… like it if I could—if we could be a part of each other's lives again."

Tim tried not to hold his breath and had to fight to keep his heart rate steady, knowing the monitors would give him away if he did. He waited patiently for Jason's response.

"And when I screw up?" Jason asked, bitterness seeping into his voice. "When I slip up and kill someone because they really fucking deserved it? What then?"

"Accidents happen Jason," Bruce said. "If you make a mistake, then we can work on it in the future. I've been keeping track of your work, and given the circumstances, I'm very impressed. I know how you feel about some of the people we track down, honestly I can't say I don't feel the same, and yet none of the people you've caught have died."

"Aside from the ones who I arranged to have killed by someone," Jason said.

"A crooked cop who was also raping his own daughter is not exactly someone the world is worse off without," Bruce said.

"Even though it breaks your rule?" Jason asked.

"Jason, if I was that straight and narrow about rules, I wouldn't be a caped vigilante," Bruce huffed. "I could write out the felonies I committed last week and have a list as long as my  _ arm _ . If I cared that much about the law, I would never have even  _ become  _ Batman. The law doesn't always align with what's right."

Silence hung in the room, only broken by the steady beeps of the monitors. Tim wished he could open his eyes and see what expressions the other two were making.

"I'm not the same person I used to be," Jason said softly. "The kid you knew is dead, and I refused to life in the shadow of my own ghost."

"I know Jaylad," Bruce said. "But I'd like to get to know the person you are now, if you'll let me."

Jason didn't answer, and Tim could only speculate what was going on in his mind. A minute passed and finally Bruce took a deep breath. "I'll let you get some sleep. Call—you can call if you need something," he said, and then his footsteps receded from the room.

Tim waited for a few minutes, wondering if Bruce would come back at some point. Just as he was considering going back to sleep, Jason gave an annoyed sigh. "I know you're awake you eavesdropping little perv."

Tim opened his eyes and glared at Jason, who was glaring right back. "I'm literally five feet away from you, how am I supposed to not overhear?"

Jason huffed. "I don't know. You're supposedly the 'smart' one, you figure it out."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Asshole," he said. A few minutes of silence passed, but Tim couldn't help himself. "He means it you know."

"I don't care," Jason grumbled, the response almost automatic. His heart didn't sound like it was in it.

"Really, he does," Tim insisted. "He'd like to have you back in his life, no matter what that means going forward. Trust me."

"Why should I trust you? You got a warehouse dropped on my head," Jason huffed.

Tim ignored the jab. "I've known Bruce for a long time, I've gotten pretty good at reading him. He's being genuine when he says he wants to reconnect," he said. "I'd give it a chance if I were you."

Jason grumbled but said nothing in response. Tim figured it was best to leave it at that and settled back down to get some more sleep. He was just starting to drift off when Jason let out a long, defeated sigh.

"Fuck it," Jason grumbled to himself, flopping back down on his pillow. He pulled his blanket up slightly and turned to go to sleep.

Tim hid a grin, deciding to hope for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized when I was writing this that every scene ended with Tim falling asleep but honestly fuck it.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long and I feel like I rushed the ending but I wanted to get it DONE goddammit! It's way later than I intended to stay up but it's finally finished! It's been a wild ride and I'm glad you've all seemed to enjoy it as much as I have!
> 
> Triggers: mild panic attack, contemplating being suicidal, and a probably not well thought out sexual encounter.

Tim healed quickly, and after a couple days graduated to being moved upstairs to his bedroom. His injuries were fairly mild for what he'd gone through, and Alfred assured him that he would make a full recovery fairly quickly. Despite the dislocated shoulder and broken pinky, it was oddly the severe bruising that gave Tim the most trouble, making every movement painful. Tim could barely move around without pain, and even sleeping could pose problems, as lying on his back hurt like hell, but lying on his front wasn't allowed until his lungs were completely clear.

The one upside was that he was getting a lot of visitors. Dick and Bruce and Alfred were of course around every day, checking on him and spending time with him when they had a minute. Even Damian came by once in a while, though mostly when Dick was there as well. He usually sat in the corner and sketched, though once or twice he came to let Titus into the room.

"I am leaving to go into the city," Damian explained. "Keep Titus company while I am gone."

Tim took it to mean that Damian was trying to make him feel better in the only way he understood how. Honestly is was sort of sweet, and Tim appreciated the effort.

Roy and Kori came by once or twice to see how he was doing as well, though they mostly stayed with Jason, who was miraculously still in the manor (Tim suspected that he would leave as soon as he was able to move under his own power, but the fact that he'd stayed this long spoke volumes). Apparently the conversation between Dick, Kori, and Roy about their relationship with Jason had been spectacularly awkward. Tim was sorry he'd missed it.

Tim's friends also came by to see him. Cassie and Bart were over as often as possible, often bringing gifts of snacks that they had to hide quickly lest they be confiscated by Alfred. The rest of the Titans made sure to call or text to check in every so often as well. Even Ives came over to see him.

"Man, first you get shot in the spine, and now a car accident? You need to stop getting hurt," Ives said.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I get rear ended by a truck," Tim huffed.

"Jerk, see if I care about your health and safety now," Ives huffed. They'd set up a video gaming rig in his bedroom so he didn't have to move. They were playing some generic fighting game. Despite the pain and the drugs, Tim was wiping the floor with Ives.

"You really suck at this game," Tim said.

"Shut up," Ives grumbled. "I want to switch characters."

"Because that worked the last two times," Tim chuckled. There was a thud from his balcony and Tim swore internally, unable to do anything as Kon unlatched the window and came inside.

"Hey babe, I was on my way back from a thing with Cassie and I figured I'd stop—oh," Kon said, stopping in his tracks when he saw Ives. "Hi."

"Uh, hey," Ives said, clearly startled by Kon's sudden appearance through the window.

Tim tried to keep his internal screaming as quiet as possible. "Hi Conner," he said. "So this is my friend Ives. Ives, this is Conner, my boyfriend."

"What's up?" Kon asked, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

"Did you just come in through the  _ window _ ?" Ives asked.

Kon glanced back at the still open window he'd just walked through and then back at Tim, who tried to motion as subtly as he could to play along. "Uh, yeah?" he said, wincing slightly.

"Dude," Ives said, "we're on the  _ second floor _ , and the ceilings in this house are tall as  _ shit _ . How did you climb up here?"

Kon gave a shrug. "Practice?" he suggested.

" _ Why _ ?" Ives asked, growing increasingly perplexed.

"Dude, have you  _ met  _ Bruce? He's  _ scary _ ," Kon said, starting to relax. Ives clearly hadn't seen Kon fly up to the balcony, and Tim thanked his lucky stars that Kon wasn't wearing his Superboy t-shirt and had instead opted for a jacket.

"Yeah I've met Bruce, he's  _ nice _ ," Ives said, still perplexed. "He remembers my birthday. Hell, he remembers my  _ mom's  _ birthday. He's  _ super _ nice."

"Have you ever met him while dating his beloved son, whom he is viciously overprotective of?" Kon countered, finally coming further into the room after removing his boots.

Ives considered that for a moment. "I have not. Point conceded," he said. He stood up and held out a hand for Kon to shake. "Nice to meet you Conner."

"Same," Kon said, giving Ives's hand a firm shake. He shrugged out of his jacket, revealing a thankfully blank t-shirt underneath.

"Mother fucker," Ives whispered. "I didn't think it was  _ actually  _ possible for someone to be that ripped. What the hell?"

Kon laughed and Tim couldn't keep a grin off his face. "I told you, he's got good genes," Tim said.

"He's built like a tank on steroids," Ives said, gesturing to Kon. "He looks like he's photoshopped in real life. No one should be allowed to be like this."

"What can I say?" Kon said with a shrug. "I was just built this way."

For the rest of the evening they played video games and talked. Kon crawled up onto the bed to snuggle with Tim and Ives took Tim's big reading chair. Tim tucked himself under Kon's arm, surprisingly comfortable despite the surprise of Kon's sudden visit. Had it only been a few weeks ago that he'd had a complete freak-out when Jason caught him and Kon together? Now he was comfortably lounging against Kon while having a casual conversation with Ives, completely relaxed. It was so odd, how at ease he felt after having so much anxiety. Maybe he should have near-death experiences more often.

Tim felt so much better in fact, that he was thinking of doing something daring.

It was a couple weeks later that he actually decided to go through with it, as it probably wasn't smart to attempt it while he was still injured. When he was finally able to move without excruciating pain, he set his plan in motion.

Now that Tim was well enough, he'd moved back into the Nest for the most part. He still went up to the manor often, but he was getting back into the swing of having his own space. The big perk of having his own space was that he got to have Kon over as much as he liked and there was less risk that one of Tim's family would poke their head in uninvited—the risk was still there, as Tim's family had a notoriously poor understanding of boundaries, but it was greatly diminished at least. He got to have dates with Kon without wondering who would come by first 'just to check on them'.

On one such date, after ordering pizza and cuddling while watching a movie, they moved to the bedroom. By now Tim's 'exposure therapy' felt rather complete, as he could be almost completely naked with Kon and not be triggered at all. They'd even managed to make out for a while in just their underwear, but Tim felt he was ready to do more.

Currently he and Kon were on the bed, having already stripped out of their shirts and moved to making out. They were lying side by side on the bed, Kon's arms wrapped around Tim, hands stroking the skin where he could reach. Tim sighed into the kiss, shivering when Kon ran his fingers up his spine. He ran a hand up Kon's chest and gently pushed him back.

"Tim?" Kon asked, already prepared to stop if Tim asked him to.

"Kon," Tim sighed. "I think I want to have sex with you.”

Kon raised an eyebrow. “Tim… are you sure?”

Tim nodded. He smiled and ran his hands up Kon's biceps, squeezing the firm muscles. "I think I'm ready."

Kon frowned, brows furrowing seriously. He sat up on the bed. "Tim, are you  _ sure  _ you're ready?"

Tim sat up, slightly surprised that this had taken such a serious turn. "Well yeah," he said. "We've been doing really well lately, and I'm not even getting anxiety when we're around my family together. I want to try."

Kon's furrowed brows remained where they were. "Do we even have everything we need?" he asked.

Tim nodded, leaning over to pull out a bottle of lube and some condoms from the nightstand. "I made sure we have everything. I even got a few different sizes of condoms, just to be sure," he said, laying them out on the bed. Something occurred to him and he suddenly felt like an idiot. "Um, are  _ you  _ not ready? I mean it's fine if you aren't. Sorry, I guess I sprung this on you really suddenly."

"No, that's not it," Kon said, reaching out to take Tim's hand. "Of course I  _ want  _ to, I just want to make sure we don't just jump into this without thinking it through."

"Again," Tim said, lips quirking into a half-smile. "Well, I guess we don't have to do it tonight if you don't think we're ready, but I'd like to start talking about it at least."

Kon hummed. "Maybe we can just start how we usually do and go from there? See how far we can go?" he said with a shrug. "And If we need to stop, we stop, okay?"

"Okay," Tim said, glad they'd reached a consensus. He scooted over on the bed and kissed Kon, winding one arm around his broad shoulders.

Kon hummed into the kiss, warm hands coming up to grip Tim's slender hips. "If you need to stop, tell me, okay?" he asked against Tim's lips. "I mean it."

"I will," Tim promised. "Same applies to you, right?"

"Right," Kon agreed. He kissed Tim again and lowered them back down to the mattress.

Tim wrapped his arms around Kon’s shoulders, hands trailing down to feel the strong muscles of his back shift under his warm skin. He shifted to part his legs, letting Kon lay down on top of him fully. Kon made a noise in his chest, starting to shift their pelvises together. They were still in their jeans, but Tim couldn’t help but shiver at the friction.

“Good?” Kon asked softly, breath puffing against Tim’s cheek.

“Good,” Tim said, planting his heels on the bed so he could push back up into Kon a little more.

Kon groaned at the added friction and began peppering Tim’s neck and collar with kisses, licks, and the occasional light bite. Tim gasped, arching his head back to give Kon more room. Kon’s hands tightened on Tim’s hips and he started travelling further downwards, dragging his lips and tongue across Tim’s chest. He caught Tim’s nipple in his mouth and bit down gently, then soothed the sting with his tongue.

“Kon,” Tim moaned, arching into the touch and scraping his nails across Kon’s shoulders.

“Too much?” Kon asked, pausing for a moment.

Tim shook his head. “More.”

Kon took a shaky breath and ducked back down to kiss across Tim’s chest to his other nipple, giving it the same attention. Broad hands trailed up and down Tim’s side, making him jolt when they reached his ribs.

“That tickles,” Tim said before Kon could freak out.

“Sorry,” Kon said, but he was smiling. He bent to press a kiss to Tim’s breastbone and started trailing lower. His hands landed at the top of Tim’s jeans. “Tim?” he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yes,” Tim said.

Kon nodded and carefully undid Tim’s zipper, pulling his pants down and tossing them off the side of the bed. Slowly, he reached for Tim’s boxers, waiting for another nod before pulling them away as well. Tim took a deep breath, bracing for the anxiety, the panic attack, but all he could feel was the thrill of Kon’s weighted gaze on him.

For a moment, Kon just sat back and looked down at him, eyes intense and breathing quick. Tim could see the outline of his hard cock pushing against the front of his jeans. There was a flush extending from his neck down his sculpted chest. Tim had the urge to sit up and lick his abs.

“You’re gorgeous,” Kon breathed, his pupils dark and hungry as he looked over Tim’s body. He surged forward to kiss Tim again, curling his thick arms around Tim’s body to hold him close against his warm chest.

Tim shivered at the sensation of Kon’s heated skin against him, moaning in the kiss. He trailed his hands across Kon’s back and chest, feeling the sculpted muscles flexing and shifting under his impenetrable skin.

Kon nuzzled into his neck. “I wanted to do this in Paris,” he groaned. “Just hold you close like this.”

Tim closed his eyes, letting the memories pass over him. He remembered how Paris had felt, the sick swirl of emotions as they tangled together. He had been so desperate just to  _ feel _ something, just to feel like he was still alive. Everything had been wrong back then, nothing had made any sense. Tim let the memories pass over him and thought about his life now, about everything that had happened since, both the good and the bad.

Opening his eyes, Tim pressed a kiss to Kon’s temple. “We can’t just do this if you want,” he said.

Kon took a deep breath and laid another kiss at Tim’s sensitive neck. “Let’s keep going.”

Tim gave a pleased hum. “Okay. Take off your pants.”

Kon chuckled and sat up. “You know, it’s weirdly hot when you give me orders like that,” he said, reaching to undo his jeans. He slid them and his underwear off and tossed them aside.

“Is it?” Tim asked, raking his eyes down Kon’s toned body, stopping conspicuously at his erect cock. “I’ll have to remember that for some other time.”

Kon grinned and lowered himself down again. A moan bubbled up in Tim’s throat at the feeling of them pressed together fully, head to toe, skin to skin. A shiver ran through Kon’s body as their cocks slid against each other. He grinned and kissed Tim’s mouth once before disappearing.

Tim stifled a yelp when Kon scooted him up the bed so he was resting on the pillows a little more. Kon laid down so he was between Tim’s legs, facing his erect cock. His hot breath wafted over it and Tim couldn't suppress a moan. For just a moment he trailed his fingers up Tim’s calves, feeling the scars, but he kept travelling upwards, feeling his strong thighs and eventually coming to rest at the bony protrusions of his hips.

“I’ve wanted to try this for a while,” Kon mumbled. He looked up at Tim. “This okay?”

“Yes,” Tim answered quickly. “God yes.”

Kon wasted no time. Taking hold of Tim’s hips to keep him steady, he bent to lick a stripe up Tim’s cock. Tim moaned loudly, tossing his head back against the pillow. Kon teased him for a while, little licks and kisses driving him  _ insane _ , before taking him fully into his mouth.

“Fuck, Kon,” Tim moaned, tangling his fingers into Kon’s hair, gripping for dear life as Kon began to suck him off. “Oh! Kon!”

Kon hummed around him, sending shocks of pleasure up Tim’s spine. Tim tried to thrust up into his hot mouth, but Kon’s hands on his hips held him steady. Whining, Tim untethered one hand from Kon’s hair and went searching through the bedsheets.

“Kon,” he gasped, his fingers closing around the item he’d been searching for. He pushed the bottle of lube insistently at Kon. “Please.”

Kon looked up at Tim through his eyelashes and took the lube. Using his TTK, Kon slicked up his fingers with a liberal amount of lube. He shifted his weight to one arm, getting into a more comfortable position. Tim sucked in a breath and spread his legs slightly, bracing himself. He jolted when Kon’s slick finger pressed against his ass.

“Doing okay?” Kon asked, taking his mouth away for a moment.

Tim nodded. “Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “ _ Please _ Kon.”

Kon swallowed and slowly pressed his finger into Tim, overcoming the slight resistance and breaching the tight ring of muscle. Tim groaned, trying to keep his breathing steady as Kon slid his finger in and out.

Tim had done this to himself a few times, especially after becoming more comfortable with being gay. He liked the feeling, the burn of the stretch. He’d been meaning to try a dildo out, but he hadn’t gotten around to getting one. He’d only ever done it to himself, and even in Paris he’d been the one to prep himself. Having someone else do it was a completely new experience, and a  _ vastly _ different feeling. It was like the intensity had been dialed up to eleven and Tim was twice as sensitive as he was when he did it to himself. Kon resumed licking at his cock at the same time and Tim tried not to thrash on the bed.

“Kon  _ more _ ,” Tim whined, toes curling and hand fisting the sheets.

Kon slid a second finger into him, gently spreading them to relax the muscles. He bent his head and sucked one of Tim’s balls into his mouth, then licked a stripe up Tim’s prenirium. “God you're so fucking hot,” Kon growled. “So good for me.”

Tim moaned, rocking his hips down onto Kon’s fingers. Everything felt amazing, like his whole body was on fire. All of his anxieties, all of the bad things that had happened to him, all of it was the furthest thing from Tim’s mind. None of it mattered, nothing but the pleasure Tim was feeling right at that moment mattered. He wanted to exist here forever, a perfect bubble with just him and Kon, wrapped up in each other’s bodies.

Kon pressed in a third finger and Tim cried out. “Oh Kon! Fuck,  _ please _ ,” he babbled incoherently.

“What do you need babe?” Kon breathed, thrusting his fingers into Tim. “Tell me what you want.  _ Fuck _ you’re so gorgeous.”

Tim tried to pull enough of his brain together to string a sentence together. “I want you inside me,” he gasped. “Please, fuck me Kon.”

Kon shuddered. “Okay,” he said, pulling his fingers out. He reached for the lube and condom, fumbling with the condom a little but managing to get himself slicked up. He carefully positioned himself, keeping a steady grip on Tim’s hip with one hand and lining himself up with Tim’s entrance with the other. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Tim reached up and gripped Kon’s shoulder, one hand trailing up to scrape across his scalp and eventually cup his cheek. He gently stroked his cheekbone with his thumb, wrapping his legs around Kon’s waist. “Yes,” he breathed into the space between them.

Kon stared down into his eyes, then bent to kiss him, at first fiercely, then gently, sweetly. He shifted his weight again and started to push forward. The blunt head of his cock pressed against Tim’s hole, slipping for just a moment before it began to slide in.

Suddenly Tim was back in Paris. Kon was over him, fucking into him, making him hurt and bleed. The metal against his back was digging in, cutting into his flesh. He was desperate to feel something,  _ anything _ , just to feel alive again. He wanted Kon to fuck him, break him, tear him to pieces.

He just wanted to  _ die _ .

“Tim? Tim!” Kon called, snapping Tim out of his own head. “Are you okay?”

Tim swore and shoved at Kon, who immediately got off of him, ending up sitting at the end of the bed. “Shit,” Tim cursed. “Sorry, I’m fine, I just…”

“Are you sure?” Kon asked, not daring to get any closer. “Your heart just went  _ crazy _ . What happened?”

Tim took deep breaths, rubbing at his eyes to try and dislodge the memories. “Just had a little episode. I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

Kon frowned. “Yeah, I don't think so,” he said. “That’s clearly a bad idea.”

Tim made a noise of frustration. “I’m  _ fine _ , I want to keep going.”

“You’re  _ not _ fine,” Kon said. His eyes softened. “Tim, it’s okay. We don’t have to do it tonight.”

Tim bit his lip. “Maybe it’s the position? Maybe I should try riding you instead? That way I can set the pace and you don't have to worry as much about hurting me.”

Kon let out a sigh and crawled up the bed so he was next to Tim again. He reached out and pulled Tim close. “Hey,” he said. “It’s  _ okay _ .”

“It’s  _ not _ ,” Tim hissed, though he wrapped his arms around Kon and clung to him. “I was sure I was ready, I  _ want _ to be ready. I’ve been doing so well lately, I thought I was over this.”

“It  _ is _ okay,” Kon said, gently rubbing Tim’s back. “We’ve got plenty of time to do this, we don't have to do it tonight. It can take a while for anyone to be ready.”

Tim grumbled. “I just… I  _ want _ to be with you Kon, I want to stop feeling like this. I  _ hate _ feeling like this. It’s like I’m broken or something.”

“You’re  _ not _ broken,” Kon said, pulling back to kiss Tim’s forehead. “You’re an amazing, gorgeous person who I love with everything I’ve got,” he said. He nuzzled their noses together, smiling softly at him. “And when we do finally have sex, it’ll be because we’re both okay with it, not because we feel like we need to prove that we can.” Kon kissed Tim gently. “And it’ll be  _ perfect _ .”

Tim sighed into the kiss and closed his eyes. The memories of Paris were fading away, and the tension was bleeding out of his body. He still felt frustrated with himself, but eventually that started to settle down. He sighed again and finally relaxed, sagging against Kon.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just really wanted to be okay now. This is taking forever.”

“It’s okay,” Kon said. “And hey, we got really far this time. That’s something, right?”

Tim smiled. “Yeah, it is,” he said. He perked up. “Hey, do you think we could keep going?”

Kon furrowed his brows. “I thought we just covered this.”

“No, not that,” Tim said. “I was fine until the last bit. Why don't we keep doing that?”

Tim watched Kon’s pupils go wide and dark. “You sure?” he asked, sounding a little strained.

Smiling, Tim gently pushed Kon back down on the bed. “Yeah, I can handle it,” he said. He grabbed Kon hand and brought it to his ass, putting it as close as possible to his still slicked up hole. “It was good Kon. You made me feel so good.”

Kon shivered, squeezing Tim’s ass once before trailing his fingertips along Tim’s sensitive hole. Tim moaned and arched his back, pushing himself back onto Kon’s fingers.

“Please Kon,” he whined. “Finger me.”

“Tim,” Kon groaned, cock twitching against his stomach. He pressed a finger into Tim’s ass, sliding it inside easily.

Tim gasped, rocking back on Kon’s fingers. He reached down and gripped his and Kon’s cocks in his hands, grinding them together. “That’s good Kon. You’re so good to me.”

Kon groaned, hips twitching slightly as Tim jerked them both off. He thrusted his fingers into Tim, curling them around to find that perfect spot. He pressed in a little deeper and Tim cried out, a bolt of pleasure racing through him like lightning.

“Kon!” Tim gasped, moving his hips faster. “Fuck, right there, that’s so good.”

“Fuck Tim,” Kon growled. He wrapped his other hand around their cocks, taking over for Tim.

Tim moaned and braced his hands against Kon’s chest, thrusting his hips forward into Kon’s hand and then back into his fingers. They fell into a rhythm, a push and pull that had them both gasping. Heat pooled in Tim’s stomach, gathering at the base of his spine and travelled upwards. He could feel himself at the tipping point, toes on the edge of the precipice.

“Tim,” Kon whispered, staring up at him with something like reverence in his eyes. “Fuck Tim, you’re so fucking hot.” He gritted his teeth and rocked his hips up against Tim’s, sliding their cocks together in his fist. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Not yet,” Tim ordered, the words coming up from somewhere inside him. “You can come when  _ I say _ you can.”

Kon moaned loudly, biting down on his lip and speeding up his hands. “Tim  _ please _ !” he begged.

Tim reach out with one hand and stroked Kon’s face. “So good for me,” he moaned, working his hips faster. “So  _ good _ .  _ Kon _ !”

Kon pushed his fingers in hard, jamming them into Tim’s prostate. With a loud cry and a full body shudder, Tim came over Kon’s stomach, pleasure racing through his body from his toes to the tips of his ears. His hips jerked as he rode out his orgasm, panting and shaking. He sighed and opened his eyes, having squeezed them shut at some point. Kon was panting hard, flushed red all the way down his chest, gritting his teeth trying not to come, trying to follow Tim’s orders.

“Please Tim,” he begged. “Please,  _ please _ .”

Tim stroked his face again. “So good for me,” he mumbled. Shakily, body still feeling like jelly, he moved down so he was faced with Kon’s straining cock. He wrapped one hand around it, marvelling at the heat, and licked the leaking head.

Kon swore loudly, biting his fist. “Tim,” he whined. “Tim  _ please oh god _ !”

“Okay,” Tim said, breath puffing over Kon’s cock. “You can come.”

Kon came with a shout, striping his own stomach. Tim jerked him through it, licking and sucking along the shaft as Kon writhed on the bed. Kon whined and shivered, oversensitive and overstimulated. Tim sat back, letting Kon catch his breath. He felt something slick slide onto his forehead.

“You got it in my hair,” Tim grumbled, reaching up to try and wipe it away before it could get in his eye or something.

“Huh?” Kon slurred, brain not completely functional. “Oh, sorry.”

Tim chuckled and crawled up the bed, grabbing some tissues from the nightstand and starting to clean them both up. He moved to get up to toss the used tissues away when Kon wrapped an arm around him and pulled him down next to him.

“Hey,” Tim huffed. “We should probably clean up.”

“Later,” Kon hummed, nuzzling into him. “Let’s cuddle for a bit.”

“Mmkay,” Tim said, sinking into Kon’s strong arms. “That was good, right?”

“That was  _ amazing _ ,” Kon said, kissing him on the mouth, slightly off-centre. “That thing with ordering me around? That was really sexy.”

“I don't even know where that came from, but I’m glad it worked,” Tim said, smiling. He felt loose and floaty, and also pretty tired. After a moment he realized he was starting to fall asleep.

“Hey,” Kon murmured against his temple. “I love you.”

Tim hummed. “I love you too,” he said.

A few hours later, Tim drifted awake. He was still curled into Kon’s side, and they were still completely naked. He stared up at Kon for a moment, taking the time to appreciate the strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. He traced the tip of his finger across his cupid’s bow, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to have this.

Had it only been a year ago that he hadn’t even seen himself making it back to Gotham? It had felt like he was untethered from his entire life, drifting from each moment to the next without anything to hold his steady. He’d had nothing. Now he was lying in bed next to the man he’d been in love with since before he even realized what ‘love’ actually was. His family was a phone call away, and the idea of dying was just that, an idea, a concept that he considered and dismissed. Of course he could die, would die one day, but that was something for another time, something for far off in the future. In the here and now, Tim wanted to just keep lying there next to Kon.

Eventually the reason Tim had woken up made itself known, and Tim reluctantly pried himself out of Kon’s grasp. He made his way to the bathroom to relieve the pressure in his bladder, making a slight face at the dried lube sticking uncomfortably to his ass. Once he was finished with the toilet, he checked under his sink to see if he had any wet wipes left. Not finding anything, Tim dug a little deeper. His hand came to rest on a bag and he pulled it out to get a better look.

It was Tim’s old kit, slightly dusty from remaining under the sink for so long.

Tim stared down at the unassuming little zip-up pouch, the kind most people used for regular toiletries when they travelled. He didn’t really remember where he’d gotten it, probably the pharmacy or dollar store. The green plastic seemed so completely ordinary for what it contained. Through the material Tim could feel the cylindrical bottle of alcohol, the pack of bandages, and the exacto knife.

How many times had Tim used it over the months, those darkest days where he’d been fighting so hard with himself? He’d honestly lost track of how bad it had gotten, entire days and weeks disappearing into the blackness. He’d thrown himself into his work, trying to shut everything else out, trying to cut the ‘bad’ parts of himself away. Every time he’d thought about Kon, imagined Kon with him, kissing him and loving him, he’d tried to cut it out of himself, deny that it was ever there at all.

“Tim?” Kon’s voice drifted in through the door. “You okay in there?”

Tim jolted a little at the sound of Kon’s voice. He looked back down at his kit, remembering all of the times he’d cut himself after jerking off. The weird mixture of pleasure and pain swirling in his mind until he wasn't sure what he was feeling anymore. For a while he’d thought he might never be able to feel pleasure without wanting the pain to go along with it.

“Tim?” Kon called again. “Are you okay?”

Tim took a deep breath and threw the kit into the trash bin. He flushed the toilet and opened the door. “Hey sorry, I was looking for something to clean up with,” he said, smiling up at Kon.

Kon looked down at him with penetrating eyes. He had X-ray vision, he could have seen what Tim was doing, or heard him with his super hearing. The look on his face was hard to read, even for Tim. Slowly, Kon reached up and cupped Tim’s face, bending to kiss him sweetly. Tim sighed and kissed back, feeling Kon’s warm body so close to his.

Kon pulled away slightly. “Let’s have a shower,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Tim said, smiling up at him. “Good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot more I probably could do with this, but honestly I think this was a good place to end it, especially since I think doing too much more would just start making it too long and going off into tangents that aren't connected with the story all that much. I was also running on motivation fumes by the end of this, wanting to move on to other projects. I hope you enjoyed this and I hope to see you at some of my other works!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Misha_the_Berry) and [Tumblr](https://mishatheberry.tumblr.com)!


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